Off the Rails
by LumiOlivier
Summary: (AU. Sequel to Adopted) After Junior Grand Prix, the Nikiforov family has moved to New York and began their training for next season, including Violet's comeback. However, her comeback may be a bit more than she...or Victor...bargained for.
1. A Fresh Start

**A/N: Don't I know you cuties from somewhere? Oh, yeah! I do know you! I don't know if you've read Adopted before or not, but before you continue on with this, I suggest you go back and read Adopted if you haven't or none of this is going to make any sense. But to the seasoned vets who have been here before…**

 **Hi! I missed you! I haven't seen you guys since September! Unless you've been keeping up with Dr. Nikiforov and Not a Perfect Fairytale. In which case, I haven't seen you since last week. But I think I did say there was going to be a sequel. Out in January of next year. Here it is, January of next year. And tomorrow, from the day I'm posting this will mark one year of this series, so yay! *insert Felicia Day yay GIF here* Now, I'm going to let you sit and read for a while, ok? I'll be at the bottom taking any questions you may have. Weeeeeeeeeeeeee…**

"So, Victor and Uncle Chris are married now?" Yurio asked, pulling at the skirt of my dress. I'm so glad they didn't go with the big ceremony. After Victor and Chris talked it over, they decided the five of us should just go down to the courthouse and make it official. And at the same one that Victor and I got divorced at. And he was worried about it being too full circle.

"That's right, baby," I nodded, "The way things should be."

"I don't get it," Yuri thought, "Weren't you and Daddy married, Mama?"

"Yes," I clarified, "Daddy and I got married. Then, we got you and Yurio. And now, we're divorced. Simple as that."

"But you still love him?"

"Of course."

"Then, why did you and Victor get divorced?" Yurio meant well, but he still had much to learn.

"It's complicated, sweetheart," I let out a heavy sigh, "All you need to worry about is that I love you and your brother more than anything. Married to Victor or not."

"Alright," Victor and Chris came out of the courthouse, "It's official. Chris and I are now married."

"Congratulations, you two," I hugged them both, "It's been a long time coming."

"Thank you, Violet," Chris kissed my cheek, "Yet again, you go above and beyond for us and we'll never be able to repay you."

"Oh, shut up," I hushed, "I wasn't exactly happy to do it, but it was the right thing."

"First, these little monsters," Victor poked at the boys, "And then, my one big monster..."

"You think me a monster, Victor?" Chris gasped, a little glint sparkling in his eye, "Would you care to see what kind of monster I could be?"

"You're about as threatening as Cookie Monster, Uncle Chris," Yurio grumbled, "Can we go now?"

"Sure, baby," I lifted Yurio onto my shoulders and the five of us started heading home. It only took a few months after competition before Chris and Victor finally get married. When I first met them, I already thought they were a couple. Then, Victor told me he had feelings for me and that was all she wrote. We all know how that story goes. We adopt the boys. Chris comes over for casual sex. Simple as that.

After they got married, though, I didn't expect the love and hospitality they gave me. I knew to expect some. Victor and Chris weren't going to abandon me like that. Yuri and Yurio wouldn't allow it. Those two are Mama's boys. There's no doubt. I have a feeling they'd both take a bullet for me. Especially Yurio. If Victor would've left me out to dry, Yurio would actually kill him.

The five of us went back to our own condos. Always the hardest part of the day. I had to tuck my boys in first. After they got a good night from Chris and Victor, I'd get the honor and privilege of putting them to bed. Yuri didn't take much. A blanket, a pillow, a kiss on the cheek, and he was out cold. Yurio, however, was a bit more complicated.

"Do you have to leave, Mama?" he whined, "You could talk Victor into letting you stay."

"Yuri," I scolded him lightly, "You know where I live. I'm just upstairs. Besides, we're starting practice for this season in the morning. You'll see me then."

"Do I still have to do dance lessons?" Yurio asked.

"You should," I thought it over, "Just to keep your skill sharp."

"But I won't have Auntie Nat to teach me anymore," he pointed out, "Who's going to be my dance teacher?"

"We're in New York, dovahkiin," I reminded him, "I'm sure we could throw a rock and we'll hit one."

"What if I don't like them?"

"Then, we'll keep looking until we find one you do like," I promised, pulling his blanket over him, "In fact, if it's alright with you, I think I know of one. She's been retired for a while, but I know she hasn't lost a step."

"Who?" Yurio wondered.

"Her name is Sharmay," I tucked his tiger under his arm, "She's a very nice lady, but you treat her with respect. Promise me you will, Yuri. Right now."

"Alright!" he swore, "I promise! And I'll meet her tomorrow?"

"You'll see her tomorrow when we set up your lessons," I clarified, kissing my baby's forehead, "Now, get some sleep, ok? You're going to need it."

"Mama," Yurio grabbed at my cardigan sleeve, "You're not going to work me as hard as Yakov, are you?"

"No," I assured, "But I'll be by after my practice tomorrow morning, ok?"

"Ok," he curled into my side, "I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too, Yuri," I held my baby tight, "Go to sleep."

"Yes, ma'am," he shut his eyes, changing his position around a few times. Then, in a matter of minutes, sleep would no longer elude him.

I walked back out to Chris and Victor's living room where my boys were cuddled up on the couch with Makkachin laying across them. They were watching the Real Housewives trying to kill one another with her bare hands. Quality programming. Meanwhile, I was missing a UFC fight I had recording upstairs. I doubled over onto the couch, giving Victor and Chris a kiss on the cheek each.

"Good night, gentlemen," I swung back on my feet, "I'll see you in the morning."

"Good night, Violet," Victor returned the favor more properly, "Love you."

"Love you, too," I started heading out, "And Chris, just so you don't feel left out, I love you more than Victor."

"I know you're lying," Chris admitted, "But I do feel accomplished."

"Night, boys," I waved behind me and headed upstairs. Not to my empty apartment, though. I still had Nadya. She was a good kitty. And cuddly, too. If I wasn't paying attention to her regularly, she'd get pissed. But I still loved her. My little angel...

Although I just wanted to lay on the couch and watch the fight with Nadya, I needed to go to bed. I set an alarm for four o'clock, so I could get to practice by five, get a two-hour session in, and do it all again with Yurio. It's going to be a long preseason, but hopefully, it'll be worth it. In a perfect world, both Yurio and I will go home with some gold hardware for the trophy case this year.

"Violet," a soft voice spoke in my ear, "Wake up, bambina. We have a rink to get to. You've been out of practice for a while and we need to get going."

"Mmmm..." I rolled over in bed, "I regret giving you a key to my condo, Coach."

"I got espresso and my undying love," he promised.

"Do you have an extra hour of sleep?" I asked, feeling Nadya jump onto my lower back.

"That's what the espresso's for," Celestino nudged me, "Come on, Violet. I know you're tired, but I promise I won't work you too hard."

"Good," I started waking up, "I still have to do the coach thing with Yurio today."

"I understand," he helped me out of bed, "That's why I won't kill you today. Tomorrow may be a while different story."

"Thanks, Celestino," I shuffled lazily to the bathroom, "You're such a peach."

"You're welcome!"

I love my coach, but some days, I wanted to beat him with a rolling pin. Today would likely be a rolling pin day. Maybe because of sleep deprivation or general exhaustion or just me being in a bitchy mood. Regardless, I got in the shower and let the hot water burn me awake. I couldn't wait, though. Nothing made me feel more alive than being on the ice.

When I was still skating, I had a constant stream of attention on me in some way. Whether it was press begging to talk to me or fans telling me that my skating was their inspiration to start or Celestino and Victor doting on me, someone was always paying attention to me.

Did that make me sound a little conceited? Kind of. I deserved it, though. I was a good wife, a great mother, and now, I could go back to being a hell of a figure skater again. Instead of being the bitch that took Victor away from the world, I could go back to being the one who stole the hearts of millions along with some of Victor's spotlight. Even when we skated together, all he had to do was sneeze and there'd be full press coverage. Not anymore.

Idiot Violet should've thought ahead last night. Simple things like having her warmups out already or maybe having her skates by the door or her gym bag packed. Instead, she comes home and immediately crashes, fully aware that all of these things are on opposite ends of her condo. Some even still in boxes from the move. Boxes on top of boxes. Way to go, past Violet.

I threw on a t-shirt (that I'm pretty sure I might have stolen from Victor...Oops...) and a pair of leggings, hoping to God Celestino hasn't dropped me yet. With a cup of coffee in my left hand, a granola bar in my right hand, and my keys in my mouth, I got into the cab outside our building. I practiced my apology in my head. Please don't kill me, Celestino. I'm still getting used to things again. Yes, I still want to skate. Yes, I can handle this. No, you wouldn't be better off with that monkey.

"Good morning, Violet," Celestino leaned over the railing, scrolling through his phone, "How are we doing on this beautiful day?"

"Tired," I took my shoes off and put on my light purple skates. Victor got these for me, "But I'll be ok. That's why God created espresso, right?"

"You can thank my people for that," Celestino took the credit, "Slam it, Vi. We have a lot of work to do."

"You're not dropping me?" I hoped.

"Of course not," he promised, "Violet, you haven't competed in years. So, you were a couple minutes late to practice. It's not the end of the world."

"I love you, Coach," I took off the blade guards, "Let me shake off the cobwebs first, ok? I haven't skated since the end of last season. This won't be pretty."

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Celestino brushed me off, "It's only been a few months. Any song in particular you'd like to start with?"

"I'm not sure," I skated to the middle of the rink, going through my playlist in my head.

"Let's think of it this way," Celestino suggested, "What do you want your program theme to be this season?"

I already knew that one. Chris and I had that talk when the boys were still in competition. With the big changes going on in my life-moving back to the US, divorcing Victor, my comeback-a rebirth wouldn't be too farfetched. The way I planned on rebranding myself, though...That would be the unexpected part. After being the image of purity for so long...After losing who Violet used to be before the husband and the kids...It's time to revisit that Violet.

"Celestino," I took center stage, "Play Lady Marmalade. My theme this year is going to be lust."

 **A/N: …eeeeeeeeeeeeeee. Alright! I am here for an open forum discussion. I can't really think of any stock book club questions for this as of right now. So, if you have any questions, you're more than welcome to ask. You know where the review section is. Don't be shy. So until later, my friends. See you next chapter. xx**


	2. Rage Quits

"Dammit!" I fell on the ice. For the fourth time. This practice.

"Violet Isabella!" Celestino scolded me, "Watch your mouth!"

"Cursing helps," I assured, attempting my jump again. Come on, Violet. It's a double toe loop. You can do that much, can't you? I know you can.

"It still sounds terrible coming out of your mouth," his tirade continued as I rolled my eyes, "I saw that."

"How about you see this instead?" I had enough speed to do this. One little double toe loop, Violet. You can do this in your sleep. Except for when one ankle gets crossed with the other and you fall flat on your face, "Shit! Why do I keep screwing up this one little jump?!"

"Violet!"

"What?" I groaned, keeping my flattened-out position on the ice. I'm frozen, but the self-flagellation might do some good, "Like you didn't know I have a mouth like a sailor when I'm pissed."

"Imagine if your boys heard you talk like that," Celestino put it into perspective, "Would you want them talking like that?"

"If it's because one of them keeps missing a hella simple jump like this one," I pulled myself back together, "They both have my blessing."

"You don't need to be beating yourself up either," he comforted, "Violet, you haven't been on the ice in a few months. It's alright to admit you're a little rusty. You just went through a divorce, an international move. You're distracted, bambina."

"I told you," I reiterated, "What happened with Victor and me won't affect my skating. Everything on that front is fine."

"Are you sure...?"

"Accidenti, Celestino!" I snapped, "I'm fine! I'm just pissed!"

"Alright," Celestino threw his arms up, "Go."

"What?"

"Go," he ordered, "If this is the kind of disrespect you're going to show me, you can leave my ice until you settle down."

"You're kicking me out?" I gasped.

"It pains me to do it," Celestino held his stance, "But yeah. I am."

"What the hell, Coach?" I got defensive.

"You're mad at yourself, Violet," he assumed, "You expect this to be like riding a bike, but it's not. You've lost some of the muscle and you're expecting it to come back overnight. You've lost your focus. Go get some tea, get your head on straight, and come back with an apology tomorrow. Then, we can get back to work."

"Whatever," I kicked my skates off and left more upset than when I walked in. This sucks! I'm better than this. And now, because of one little trick, I got my coach pissed off at me. Damn double toe loop.

Down the street from the rink was a cozy little coffee shop. It was always busy with businessmen on break, hipsters working on a thinktank project, writers scribbling down their latest novel on a napkin and on their sixth Americano. I loved it in here. If this place doesn't cheer me up, nothing will. But I had faith in this little coffee shop.

I ordered my flat white and made myself comfortable in a secluded corner booth. Celestino was right. I was pissed at myself. One trick. One little trick! How the hell was one double toe loop the trick to screw me over? I just hope to God Yurio's first practice goes better than mine. With the mood I'm in, I'm worried I'll take that out on him and he doesn't deserve that. Maybe his dance teacher can even me out.

The coffee was definitely a start. I could feel it go down my throat and into my toes. Like a liquid hug. Hell of an idea Celestino had. He might have suggested tea, but right now, coffee would be my saving grace. Sleep was for the weak anyway. As the last drop fell on my tongue, I felt like a new woman, ready to get back on the ice and make it my bitch.

I wouldn't say my head was back on straight like Celestino told me to do, but it was on enough. Besides, I had to face my reason to start skating in the first place. And after such a pathetic display. Thank God Victor didn't see that. To think I've won multiple gold medals on international levels and I couldn't land a damn double toe loop. Before I grabbed my little champion, I threw my bag back in my condo. A shower probably wouldn't kill me either, but I'd still be on the ice today. No sense.

"Victor?" I pushed his door open. To no surprise, I had Makkachin on my leg. However, there was hardly any sign of Victor or Chris. Where, in God's green Earth, was my ex-husband? I checked their bedroom (cautiously. We don't need a repeat of that one Christmas.) and sure enough, Victor was curled into his husband's ribs, both sleeping like a baby. I didn't have the heart to wake either one of them up.

But I had a schedule to keep, I let Chris and Victor sleep and took the other hallway off the living room. According to Victor, the layout was what sold him. Chris and Victor's bedroom and Victor's office was off the kitchen while Yuri and Yurio's bedrooms and bathroom were off the living room. I peeked my head in Yuri's room to check on him. Sleeping just like his father.

Now...The dragon's den. Well...The half dragon's den. Half dragon on his Mama's side. There he was. My little angel still sound asleep, curled up in a ball with his tiger firmly affixed under his arm. I didn't want to wake him up either, but alas. It must be done. I sat at the edge of Yurio's bed and he cuddled into my lap. Now, I really didn't want to wake him up. Here goes nothing.

"Yuri," I whispered, "Yuri, it's time to get up, baby."

"Mmm..." Hard to tell who this one takes after.

"Yuri," I raised my voice a little, "You have to get ready for this season. We got practice."

"Mama..." Yurio whined, "Why do we have to practice so early?"

"It's nine o'clock," I giggled, "Since when is that early? What time did you fall asleep?"

"Around midnight."

"And why is that?" I wondered. As if I didn't already know. Yurio was my son after all. Yurio glanced down at the floor. Yep. That's my boy, "Yuri...Give me your game."

"It's addicting!" he defended, "If I didn't hear Victor and Uncle Chris in the hall, I would've been up all night."

"I understand," I took his handheld from him, "I've been on a few late-night game binges. But you also have to prioritize, too. Yuri, we need to get you ready for competitions again. We both need that. And remember, we're seeing your new dance teach today, too."

"That's right," he fell back in his pillows, "What if I don't want to meet my dance teacher today?"

"That's too bad," I helped him back up, "Come on, baby. You have to get up. Tell you what. If you meet with your dance teacher today and do good at practice all week this week, Friday night, you can come up to my place and we'll game binge. How does that sound?"

Yurio mulled it over for a minute or two, "Would I still have a bedtime?"

"A much looser bedtime," I decided, "One of those bedtimes where what Victor and Uncle Chris don't know won't kill them."

"Deal."

"Awesome," I hugged my baby tight, "But just so you know, your handheld is going to my condo until then."

"What?" Yurio whined, "But Mama..."

"But Mama nothing," I settled him, "I don't want you sneaking in some more late-night gaming again. You need to sleep once in a while, kid. For more reasons than one."

"Fine," he pouted, jumping down from his bed.

"Go get ready, Dovahkiin," I sent him off, "I'll go get your apple juice, ok?"

"Ok," Yurio shuffled his feet to the bathroom while I headed to the kitchen.

Chris and Victor had their unpacking done the first week we were living in New York. Everything meticulously organized. A place for everything and everything in its place. Me? Not so much. Yurio's bottle was still in the same place, though. Upper cabinet, left of the fridge. Just like it was in St. Petersburg.

While I'm here, I might as well make a pot of coffee, too. I reached up and grabbed the grounds, filling the filter a couple scoops, making it just strong enough. Out of nowhere, my stomach rumbled. I checked Chris and Victor's fridge for some semblance of breakfast. My god, boys. You need to go grocery shopping. Something tells me that Victor and Chris don't cook much. Living in a cultural hub like New York will do that.

Even when we were living in St. Petersburg, I still did most of the cooking. It's a damn shame, too. Victor's a hell of a cook. When he was teaching me how to make Russian food, we bounced so nicely off each other. That's one of those things I missed the most about us being together. Just the two of us.

"Well, well..." Speak of the devil, "What do we have here? M best friend in my kitchen in the fridge, no less. And she's in my t-shirt."

"Good morning to you, too," I couldn't hold back a smile if I wanted to.

"What kind of one-night stand did you just come from, Vi?" Victor asked, giggling to himself.

"No one night stands," I assured, shutting the fridge. Looks like I'm taking Yurio for breakfast first, "I came to get my skater, our son, and practice for a while."

"You think you can juggle that?" he worried.

"Yes," I nodded. He meant well, "Relax, Victor. I got this. We're not going to have any problems with Yakov this year. We should be fine."

"Ok," Victor let it go, "But if it gets to be too much, you know I'll coach Yurio, too."

"I got it!" I snapped, but quickly realized the error of my ways, "I'm sorry. I've been a little on edge all morning. No clue why..."

"Are you alright?" he poured coffee for both of us.

"I think I'm sleep deprived," I figured, "And I'm really out of practice and it's pissing me off to no end. Then, Celestino psychoanalyzing me wasn't helping matters. The season hasn't even started, Victor. I'm already a mess."

"You're not a mess, Violet," Victor draped his arm around me while I tucked my head into his chest out of reflex, "You just need to put a little more work in. That's all. What sparked the fight with you and Celestino?"

"I couldn't land a double toe loop," I vented, "A double toe loop, Victor! If I can't land the easy tricks, how the hell am I going to land the hard ones?"

"With a little more practice," he reiterated, "After you get that double toe loop down, I'm sure everything else will come back to you, too. How does Celestino factor into all of this?"

"You know how I get when I'm mad in practice," I reminded.

"Yeah," Victor took a sip from his coffee, "You curse like a sailor."

"And apparently, Celestino doesn't like that," I went on, "And when I start cursing in Italian, he really didn't like that. He says I'm distracted. You know what he did after that?"

"What?"

"He kicked me out!" I squeaked, "He said I could come back when I apologize."

"Violet," Victor hushed me, "Yuri's still having trouble sleeping. We had a late night last night."

"What do you mean?" I gave him a look, my radars going up, "Yuri was fine when I put him to bed last night."

"It's not the falling asleep apart," he clarified, "It's staying asleep that's proving to be difficult."

"Poor baby…" It doesn't matter how pissed off I am at my coach. My boys come first. All of them.

"Good morning," the pitter patter of not so little feet joined us.

"And the one I was worried about waking up the most," Victor stole a quick kiss.

"Sorry, Chris," I winced, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"I didn't think Victor was out here talking to himself," Chris kissed the top of my head, reaching around me for the coffee pot, "But no. You didn't wake me, Violet. What have I missed?"

"Celestino's salty, Violet's sleep deprived and cursing up a storm, and Yurio's got practice," Victor pulled out a chair for him, "I covered everything, didn't I, Violet?"

"Pretty much," I nodded.

"And she stole my shirt," Victor added, "Now, you're all caught up."

"You mean my shirt?" Chris wondered, looking it over closer.

"No," Victor corrected, "That's mine."

"He's right," I backed him up, "I stole it from him."

"Who stole it from me," Chris chuckled, "That's my shirt."

"Welp," I bit my lip.

"Keep it," he allowed, "It suits you better than Victor."

"Rude!" Victor gasped.

"Honeymoon's over already?" I teased.

"We haven't gone on our honeymoon yet," Chris thought, "We've been too busy with everything else. Before the season starts? Please?"

"Yeah," Victor promised, "We can go. Where would you like to go?"

"Anywhere," Chris let out a dreamy sigh, "Maybe Malta. It's so pretty there…"

"I've never been," Victor admitted, "We could do Malta and Italy in the same trip. Violet, would you be ok watching the…"

"Absolutely," I didn't even think twice, "I'm still their mother, Victor. Just because you have full custody doesn't change that. You two can take off tomorrow if you want."

"It is early in the preseason," Chris pointed out, "And I'm sure Violet can coach Yuri if need be."

"Violet's got enough on her plate," Victor settled him.

"Then, why don't you call your old coach?"

"Oh, HELL NO," I put my foot down, "I will not allow that."

"We went through a bit of an ordeal with Yakov last year," Victor explained, "That's a very sensitive topic, dorogoy. And Yakov isn't exactly answering my calls. I doubt he'd fly all the way from Russia just to coach Yuri."

"And there's no way in hell I'd allow that," I repeated, "It's bad enough we put Yurio through that. We're not doing that with Yuri, too."

"Doing what with Yuri?" Yurio came out, his bag in hand and his skates over his shoulder.

"Don't worry about it, baby," I brushed him off, "You ready to go?"

"Yeah," he grabbed his apple juice off the counter.

"When will you have him back, Vi?" Victor asked.

"Probably before noon," I figured, "I won't have him out all day."

"Alright," he let us go, "Have fun, you two. Be nice to him, Violet."

"Of course," I scoffed, "Let's go, Dovahkiin. We got work to do."

Yurio and I left our building and headed down to the rink. Let's hope I don't beat him up too much. Or take out what happened this morning on him…I don't want to put him through another Yakov situation ever again.

 **A/N: And we're back, friends. To make it clear, Celestino's pissed off at Violet for being pissed off at herself. Yurio's first practice is next chapter along with meeting his dance teacher. And most importantly, Violet stole Victor's t-shirt that Victor stole from Chris (Jerry! Jerry! Jerry!). I've been having random little ideas for this story for the past week. And I think I'm going to put one of them in the story soon. Mostly because I think that 1.) It sounds adorable. And 2.) It's totally plausible. But you'll see. In good time. See you next chapter! xx**


	3. Lessons Learned

God, I know I'm not usually much of the religious type, but could you do me a solid? Let Yurio's first practice go well. Don't let it turn out like mine. Something like that would destroy his confidence and no mother ever wants that for her baby. No coach wants that for their skater. Just...please. Let this go well. That's all I ask for. Let this go well.

"Alright, Yuri," I dropped his bag on one of the empty benches, "We got the rink to ourselves. What do you want to skate first?"

"Primadonna," he requested.

"Thought so," I scrolled through my playlist, "There's no need to really take this practice seriously, baby. It's only to shake the cobwebs off, ok? Feel free to skate for fun."

"Ok," Yurio ran through his stretches, "So, no big jumps either?"

"God, no!" I freaked, "I know you have a few of them on lock, but if you end up getting hurt in the preseason, kiss your next Junior Grand Prix goodbye. Unless it heals in time, but we're not risking it."

"How bad could it be, though?" Yurio wondered, slipping his skates on.

"Pretty bad," I winced, "Talk to Victor about how bad it can be when you get hurt during preseason. Before we got you and Yuri, he was trying to show off once at the rink in St. Petersburg. He ended up breaking his tailbone. I love Victor dearly, but I had to take care of him for eight weeks after that. In that time, his doctor and his physical therapist told him not to skate for a while. You don't want that, do you?"

"No!" he shook his head, "I promise, Mama. No jumps."

"No big jumps," I clarified, "Do all the little jumps you want."

"But I don't want to get hurt."

"You'll be fine," I assured, "You'll only get hurt if you don't land them. And I know you can land your tricks, can't you?"

"Yeah," Yurio didn't sound too sure about that. Looks like he needs a boost.

"Make me proud, Dovahkiin," I kissed his cheek, "I know you will."

"I will!" The fire in his belly burned wild and bright. There he was. I must admit. His fears of injury were totally warranted. After the million and one falls I've taken this morning, I'm sure I had some bruises. Hopefully, that's all I had. A throbbing pain radiated through my hip and down my leg. I'll be ok. Just ice it and stretch it out and I'll be fine.

For now, I had Yurio's progress to check on. By the looks of his movements, the kid picked up right where he left off. A little sloppy, but Yurio's also been off the ice for a couple months while we've been moving. It's like he never stopped. I wonder where this is coming from. Maybe Yuri's win coming back to haunt him? Whatever worked for him. After a few more songs, I brought Yurio back to the barricade.

"You're doing great, sweetie," I kissed his sweaty forehead, "I'm proud of you. A little word of advice, though? Tighten up your spins. They were looking a bit lazy. You want the judges to know you enjoy being on the ice and you want to be here. In order to do that, you need to be able to spin on a dime, ok?"

"Alright," Yurio leaned over the rail, still out of breath.

"Yuri?" I grabbed his water bottle, "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he pulled himself together, taking a long drink, "I want to keep going."

"You sure?" I worried, "We can stop for the day. Or at the very least, we can take a break."

"No," Yurio pushed through, "I said I'm fine. If we're going to beat Piggy and Victor this year, I can't take any breaks."

"Yes, you can," I settled him, "Yuri, it's not good to strain yourself. I understand wanting to beat your brother, but you still need to take care of you. Are you sure you can still keep going?"

"I'm sure," he promised, scrolling through my phone, "And I'm ready to go back out."

"Alright," I let him go, "What did you pick?"

"You'll see," Yurio skated lazily to the center of the rink. A blaring brass section started playing. The kid's skating swing now? He's never skated Sinatra before. In fact, this was one of Victor's and my old routines! Someone's been spending some quality time on YouTube lately, hasn't he? Yurio modified one of our old couples routines for a single by himself? I'm impressed, kid. You really do make Mama proud. But pulling out "You Make Me Feel So Young" at your age? A little ahead of your time.

Yurio came back in, looking for my critique. Honestly, he didn't do too bad for coming up with most of it on the spot. I had to give him points for that. But it could've been a teeny bit cleaner. It's been a while for him, though. Nevertheless, I was still proud of him. Both as my skater and my son.

"You haven't lost a step, Yuri," I praised, "Very nice. Another one of those things we save for future reference, though? Stay out of our catalog."

"You noticed that, did you?" Yurio smirked, "I like that one, though, Mama."

"That's all well and good," I agreed, "But keep your mitts off Victor's and my routines. Get your own."

"I think I did pretty well," he shrugged, "Can we keep going?"

"I think you've done more than enough for today," I cut him off, "How about we go grab some breakfast?"

"Ok," Yurio kicked his skates off and put his shoes back on. It's kind of nice when he doesn't put up a fight.

The two of us packed up and headed to the nearest bistro for a little breakfast. After all the physical activity the two of us have been through, a big breakfast would probably make both of us puke all over the sidewalk and, quite frankly, I don't want to deal with that today. There was a place on the corner that was very light and open for it being a cafe in Brooklyn. If I had to put a word on it, this place was very Tumblr aesthetic blog. This was where all the trendy Instagram models (including my ex-husband when our relationship was in its infancy) liked to hang out.

Yurio still had zero taste for coffee, but maybe this place could change his mind. Instead of ordering his usual hot chocolate, I brought him a decaf caramel mocha latte. It's bad enough the sugar's going to have him buzzing. He didn't need a coffee buzz on top of that. I could use another espresso, though. That was concentrated sleep in a liquid form. I brought us back a big ass blueberry muffin and our drinks and broke up him playing games on my phone.

"So," I watched as he started to slam his drink. Before he burned himself, I lowered his cup, "Easy, kid. Just because you're Dragonborn doesn't mean your throat can handle high temperatures."

"This is really good hot chocolate," Yurio awed, "What kind is this?"

"It's a latte kind," I came clean, "That's not hot chocolate, Yuri. That's coffee."

"This is coffee?" he gasped, "I take back everything bad I've ever said about it. This is amazing."

"I knew you were my son somewhere," I giggled, "Now, speaking of you. Have you given any thought to what you want your theme to be this year?"

"Not really," Yurio took a chunk of muffin and shoved it in his mouth, "Can't we do the same thing as we did last year? Just with different music? I crushed my theme last year."

"Yes, you did," I nodded, "But we're not doing that. We need to do something new to keep the judges interested. You want people to watch you. And if you're doing the same thing over and over again, they're going to lose interest. We don't want that."

"So, what do we do?" he started to get nervous. I didn't like seeing that on his face.

"What song in practice do you skate the best?" I asked him.

"The Tale of the Dragonborn."

"Let me rephrase that," I kept leading this horse to the water, "What's your go-to song when we're practicing?"

"Primadonna," Yurio hid a little smile from me.

"Let's build something around that," I suggested, "When you hear that, what do you think about?"

"Fame," he told me, "Stardom."

"There you have it," I applauded, "Congratulations, Yuri. You just picked your theme."

"Fame?" Yurio's face lit up.

"Fame," I confirmed, "It can be a monster, but you've taken down monsters before, haven't you?"

"Yes, I have!" he squeaked, "Hey, Mama…"

"What, baby?"

"Will I be famous?" Yurio wondered with innocence in his eyes.

"One day," I hoped, "Just don't let it go to your head and you'll be fine."

"It's going to be great!" he continued down his train of thought, "Everybody will always be watching to see what I do next and I'll make everyone so happy. I won't be able to go anywhere without someone knowing who I am. That sounds awesome!"

"Slow down there, turbo," I giggled, "You're starting to venture into Victor territory. That's what happens when fame gets to your head."

"You had to take the fun out of it, didn't you?" Yurio came down, pouting on his side of our booth.

"Sorry, sweetheart," I apologized, "My responsibility as your coach is to see you succeed in the skating world. My responsibility as your Mama is to make sure you don't get a big head. Now, grab your latte. We have to go see your teacher."

"You never told me about my teacher," he jumped down from the booth.

"Yes, I did," I remembered, "I told you her name was Sharmay and that she was retired, but I'm sure she'll be more than happy to take you on."

"You think so?"

"I know so."

"Hold on," Yurio stopped me, grabbing the door, "She's retired?"

"That's right."

"So, some old woman's going to be my dance teacher?" he whined, "If I wanted that, I would've stayed with Yakov."

"What did I tell you, Yuri?" I scolded, "You treat her with the utmost respect. Just because she's old doesn't mean she can't still teach you. I trust this woman with my life. Therefore, I'll trust her with you. Do you want some random person off the street to be your dance teacher or do you want someone I already know will get you to Junior Grand Prix again?"

"Sorry, Mama," Yurio put his tail between his legs.

"Thank you," I took his hand, "Come on. She's waiting for you."

The two of us left the bistro and headed to the old home away from home. As we strolled down my memory lane, I showed Yurio some old points of interest. My old apartment before I met Chris and Victor, where I used to get my nails done, where my main source of caffeine came from. I forgot how much I loved living in New York. When I left upstate to be down here, it was the first time I ever felt free to do whatever I wanted. And now, for the first time in a very long time, I felt that same freedom again.

But the one thing I had the miss/not miss relationship with about living in New York? This place. The old burlesque club. Any sensible parent wouldn't dare bring their child in such a seedy establishment. Then again, no one ever said I was ever sensible. And with my impulse control at an all time low, why not take my almost nine-year-old son in here? It's not like any of the girls have shown up for work yet. There was no show going on. Everything was pretty PG for the time being. Besides, where else am I going to find his dance teacher?

"Mama?" Yurio looked around, confused as all hell, "What are we doing here? I thought you said you'd never teach me Lady Marmalade."

"I'm not teaching you Lady Marmalade," I assured, "But this is where I told your dance teacher to meet us at. Seeing her anywhere else would just be weird."

"I don't get it."

"You will." Where is she? I thought she said she'd be here by noon.

Beep!

I took my phone out of my pocket. One new text message. Shit…I told him I'd have Yurio back by now…

 _Where are you?_

 _-VN_

 _Red Room. I know. I'm late. Might be another half hour or so._

 _I'm so sorry. :P_

 _-VP_

"Who's that?" Yurio wondered.

"Victor," I groaned, "I promised him I wouldn't have you out all day."

Beep!

 _What the hell are you doing, taking our son to the Red Room?!_

 _-VN_

I could feel him bitching at me through the phone.

 _Dance lessons. That whole coaching thing._

 _-VP_

 _At the Red Room?_

 _-VN_

 _Yes…_

 _-VP_

"Violet!" a voice chimed from backstage.

"Madame!" I hugged her tight, "I'm sorry it took me so long to get back here. The move's kept us pretty busy."

"It's alright, sweetheart," she brushed me off, "I understand."

"Madame's going to be my dance teacher?" Yurio squeaked.

"Hi, Yuri!" Madame got down to his level, "That is ok with you, isn't it?"

"She was my dance teacher before Auntie Nat was," I pointed out, "Trust me, Yuri. You want a Junior Grand Prix guarantee? This is how you do it."

"And it'll be just us?" Yurio asked.

"Just you and me, baby," Madame promised, "I don't teach anymore. Except for you."

"Absolutely," he approved, throwing himself in her embrace, "She's much better than Lilia."

"Who's Lilia?" she wondered.

"His former coach's former wife," I explained, "She had a stick in her ass a mile long. Yuri don't repeat what I just said."

"I won't."

"Well," Madame sat at the edge of the center stage, "Since I'm teaching Yuri now, is there any chance I'm choreographing your programs, too, Violet? I wouldn't mind giving you both lessons."

"I'll think about it." Given that I'm making my comeback this year and given my theme, who better to give me a refresher course than the one that choreographed everything I've done before?

"Yay!" she chirped, "We can start lessons next week. We have a new crop of dancers coming in tomorrow and I have to get them trained up."

"Good," I joined her onstage, ready to collapse.

"Vi?" Madame caught me slipping, "You ok?"

"It's taking a while for me to readjust to everything," I vented, "But I'll be ok. We should get going, Yuri. Victor's pissed I had you out so long. I think he's got plans for today for you and your brother."

"Ok, Mama," Yurio grabbed his bag and threw it over his shoulder.

"Hey, Violet," Madame stopped me in the door, "You know if you need to talk to someone…"

"I know," I nodded. Even when I wasn't working at the burlesque club, I knew Madame would always have my back no matter what. After last year's Grand Prix, that became more etched in stone.

I left Yurio on his floor and went up one more to my own. My feet were killing me and I needed a shower something fierce. This whole double duty thing was more daunting than I thought it'd be. But I could still do it. Daunting or not, I had this. Maybe after a nap. A nap sounded like a great idea. Before I go back to sleep, though, I need to do a quick assessment of the damages. I started running the shower and peeled off my leggings. There's no way this is going to be pretty.

Sure enough, black and purple splotches up and down my leg. I thought I fell a little more gracefully than this. Gross. Nothing a pair of nude tights and some miracle concealer can't fix. Besides, I'm sure they'll be gone before competition. Ice, a heating pad, and stretches. A poor man's physical therapy. I had that much. After my shower, I crawled in my nice, warm bed with Nadya and clocked out. This cat may occasionally hate me, but my god, was she a good nap buddy.

A couple hours later, I woke up, caffeinated, and went back to the rink. I'm going to get this damn double toe loop down if it kills me. I put on some music just to kill the silence. Something nice and calming. I couldn't have constant loud and angry. Not right now anyway. A soft piano felt like a good idea. I'm so glad it's empty in here. Then again, not many people are going to want to come ice skating in the middle of February.

Alright, Violet. You can do this. It's just a double toe loop. It's an easy trick. Don't let it trip you up like it did this morning. The only reason you didn't get it then was because you were just waking up and you had Celestino on your back. Get your speed up. A couple laps around the rink should do. And now…Execute your jump.

 _THUD._

"DAMMIT!" my anger echoed around the room. So glad I'm the only one in here, "ONE TRICK! ONE GODDAMN TRICK!"

I would never consider actually punching a baby, but right now, I could drive my fist through a wall. This was ridiculous. All I wanted was to land a double toe loop. One double toe loop and I'd be able to sleep soundly tonight. I thought I was perfectly focused. I wasn't angry. Nice and calm. Everything was fine. I had nothing else on my mind but this trick. Now, I've successfully debunked Celestino's theory of me being distracted. And now, I lay here, face down on the ice, not wanting to move. I deserved the future frostbite. And who knows? Maybe it'll help the bruising on my leg.

"I thought I'd find you in here," a thick, Russian accent filled the air, only making me feel worse.

"Hi, Victor," I mumbled into the rink, "What do you want?"

"You seem to be having a little trouble," he walked out to me, trying to help me back on my feet.

"I appreciate the assistance," I stayed down, "But this is where I belong."

"Oh, don't give me that," Victor had more arm strength than I gave him credit for. Or I was just that light, "Underrotate."

"What?" I looked at him like he was on drugs.

"When you go to do your jump," he suggested, "Underrotate. See if that helps. Try it again."

"Since when are you my coach?" I regained my footing and skated toward the barricade.

"I used to do this, too, Violet," Victor reminded me, "And I have a whole year of coaching experience under my belt."

"So do I," I did a few lazy spins, "You think I bit off more than I could chew here?"

"I think that all you need to do is land this double toe loop," he figured, "And then, you can go back to your proper training."

Underrotate, huh? I did a few laps around the rink again to make sure I had enough speed. I could do this. If I underrotate, I'll be able to land this. And when I was skating by myself in the old days and Victor was there, he worked like some sort of good luck charm. Alright, Violet. Center yourself. And…Execution…

PERFECT LANDING! I hated when Victor was right sometimes, but PERFECT LANDING! I could hardly hold myself together, "HELL YEAH! IT'S ABOUT DAMN TIME!"

"See?" Victor hugged me tight, sharing in my excitement, "I told you! Underrotate."

"Thank you," I nearly burst into tears, "I suppose I should apologize to Celestino now."

"Tomorrow," he corrected, "It'll give you both a chance to cool off. Are you ok, Violet?"

"That's the fourth time today someone's asked me that!" I got defensive, "What is with people? I'm fine. Why?"

Victor had a look on his face. I could see it in his eyes. He didn't believe me, "Tell you what. Any plans you may have tonight, cancel them. You and I have a date."

"We do?" I wondered, "I mean, I'm free tonight anyway, but what do you mean, we have a date? Didn't you just get married again?"

"We have a date tonight," he reiterated, "I want you to come down to our condo around eight."

"Ok," I wasn't going to turn him down. And it's Victor. I've known him for a very long time. Hell, we were married once! What's the worst that could happen?

 **A/N: Plenty could happen. You could both be eaten by bears. Could get stabbed in a subway station. Accidentally join a cult. I could see that happening to Victor. He's too sweet to turn people down outright. But I'm so happy he helped Violet get that double toe loop down. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go lay down for a bit. Maybe take my dog outside for the last time tonight. I mean, she's sleeping like a rock right now, but once she wakes up, I'll take her to potty. Anyway, see you next chapter! xx**


	4. Just the Two of Us

7:55PM. I'm supposed to be down at Chris and Victor's in five minutes. Only one thing was on my mind. Other than whatever the hell Victor had in mind tonight. Where did my phone go…? He wasn't telling me much about tonight. Just to come over. And Victor's surprises always worried me. Which brought me to my question.

 _Are real pants a requirement?_

 _-VP_

 _Inside pants are fine._

 _-VN_

God bless you, Victor Nikiforov. I threw on a loos pair of sweatpants (that I also might have stolen from Victor. These did seem a little long on me and I did have a pair just like them.) and a t-shirt that was a couple sizes too big for me and headed downstairs. If Victor was cool with me in not real pants, maybe we're just hanging out, the five of us tonight. That sounded nice.

"Victor?" I walked into a suspiciously quiet condo. No Yuri and Yurio getting into petty squabbles. No Yurio getting confrontational with either Chris or Victor. Not even the bleeps and bloops from his video games. No random voices from Yuri's YouTube adventures. What the hell? Was no one home? Can't be completely empty. Makkachin greeted me at the door, "Victor!"

"Bathroom!" Victor called out, coming out to the kitchen, "Hi there."

"Hey," I took a quick look around, "You seem to be short a couple kids and a husband. Where are Chris and the boys?"

"Chris got tickets to the Lion King tonight," he pulled me to his chest, "It's just the two of us."

"What's the occasion?" I wondered, taking my usual seat at the bar.

"I miss you, Violet," Victor got a couple of flutes out of the upper cabinet, "I know we see each other every day, but I feel like we haven't hung out in forever. Just us. Do you know how long it's been?"

I thought about it for a minute, "Has it been since we got divorced?"

"I don't think so," he opened up the liquor cabinet. I like where this is going, "Do you remember when we first started living together?"

"I know of it," I nodded. Oh, the good old days. Every day was a slumber party and I always got to hang out with my best friend in the whole world.

"Well," Victor finished getting the evening's refreshments. In the form of a bottle of wine and a big ass bag of cotton candy, "I thought we could revisit that."

In that moment, my heart skipped a beat, "Rosé, blue cotton candy…"

"Because you're weird and don't like the pink kind…"

"If you tell me you got charcoal masks, too," I swooned, "I swear to God, Victor, I will lose it and possibly take you right here on this kitchen table."

"Then, I should hide the Sephora bag in the bathroom, shouldn't I?" Victor giggled.

"You really are feeling nostalgic," I scoured the kitchen for a corkscrew. I know those two have one somewhere.

"What do you think you're doing, young lady?" Victor slapped my hands out of the drawer, "I got it."

"Come on, Victor," I pouted, "I'm thirsty and that rosé is looking awfully inviting."

"And I will be more than happy to get you some," he tapped me on the nose with the corkscrew, "You know how this goes. Do you want a headband or do you have one?"

"You know I already got one," I showed him my wrist. Old habits die hard. Ever since I was working in the Red Room, I always had one headband and one hair tie on me. One never knew when they'd come in handy. And once I started skating, the habit stuck.

"I know," Victor tore off a piece of cotton candy and stuffed it into our glasses, "Go lay on the couch."

"Ok," I pulled my hair up and waited for Victor to bring our rosé, "If I told you I haven't touched my skin in ages, would you yell at me...?"

"Violet!" he scolded, "After all the time I've spent on it, the least you could do is take care of it! It's imperative that you do!"

"I know," I winced. Even when we were hardly married and barely roommates, Victor took better care of my skin than I did. That's probably half the reason why I got spa trips when Chris came over. Other than to make up for the blatant cheating that I knew about (and was totally cool with) and to get me out of the house while it took place. I guess that was one of those things that never changed, "I'm sorry. I never think about it."

"Klyanus' bogom (I swear to God)," Victor let out a heavy, exasperated sigh. He only broke out the Russian three times in his life anymore; when he's in Russia and the other person doesn't speak Russian, when he was all hot and heavy, and when he's pissed, "What am I going to do with you, Violet? Can you at least promise me you'll think about it more during competition?"

"Yes," I was more interested in the glass in his hand. That looked absolutely tantalizing.

"I mean it, Violet," he held my rose hostage, "Promise me. You're going to have bright lights and cameras in that pretty little face of yours. Those cameras are high def these days. If you don't promise me right now, no rosé."

"Yes!" I squeaked, taking my glass, "I promise! I'll take better care of my skin. Now, how dare you hold my rosé against me?"

"It had to be done," Victor put his glass on the coffee table, "It's the only way I'd get you to do it."

"You're awful," I declared, "I hope you know that."

"That's what I aspire to be," he went into the bathroom and came back with a green jar in his hand, "And I thought I told you to lay down."

"I was waiting for you," I laid my head on Victor's muscular thigh. They made for such nice pillows.

"Oh, Violet," Victor shook his head, "You're too much."

"I love you, too," I laid perfectly still on his leg while he rubbed the cool, black cream on my face. And I turned into a puddle, "Oh, yeah. This takes me back."

"You know," he told me, "This little tradition goes back a lot further than you and me."

"Really?"

"Oh yeah," Victor nodded, "When I first started skating. Even further back than that. When I was still in ballet lessons. Lilia took very good care of me."

"And I'm guessing Lilia's the one that introduced you to Yakov."

"Yes," he gave me a little swat, "Stay still, Violet."

"Sorry."

"There was one time," Victor went on, making his way down the rest of my face, "I wasn't doing too well in practice. My whole day was off. My confidence was bottomed out. And Lilia could tell. She sent the rest of the girls home and said she wanted to work with me individually for a while. Believe it or not, Lilia was once a very warm soul. I'm guessing the divorce took a lot of that out of her."

"Are you sure?" I had a hard time believing that one. Although I've only heard stories about Lilia from either Yakov or Natalia. Never from Victor, though. The way he talks about her, Lilia might as well have been his own mother.

"I'm very sure," he promised, finishing at my jawline, "But I didn't know what had come over me that day. I just couldn't get with it and it was killing me. But Lilia took me back to one of the dressing rooms. At first, I had no idea what she was doing. All I saw was one of her bags with more makeup in it than I had ever seen in one place before. She sat me down and by the time Lilia was done, my skin glowed so bright, I could've been seen from space. She told me I was the most beautiful boy she's ever seen in her life and that I was better than what I was at practice that day. So, I did one last routine before I went home that day and killed it. I shall never forget that day as long as I live. Why do you think I did it for you?"

I laid my head on Victor's shoulder, not sure whether to smile or cry a little, "Thank you…"

"You're welcome," he kissed the top of my head, "And Violet?"

"Yeah?"

"Don't overwork yourself," Victor wrapped his arms around me, holding me tight, "Please. You've been stretching yourself thin for the last few weeks and you need to take a break once in a while. For your own sake."

"I'll try not to," I swore, "But between my great, grand, epic comeback and Yurio's second season, then the move on top of that, when will I have the time?"

"Make it," he demanded, "Tell you what, this weekend, I want the two of us to go out like it was the old days. You've been a shut-in for the last three months. You deserve a night off."

"Actually," I remembered, "I'll have to take a rain check on that. I got a date this weekend."

"Really?" Victor gasped, "Did you finally try online dating? Violet…You're better than that. I mean, whatever you have to do, but really?"

"You asshole," I giggled, "No! I didn't try online dating."

"You actually met someone then?" he awed, "I'm so proud. Look at you…What's his name? Is he cute? Will he treat you well?"

"Jesus, Victor," I stopped him, "I pray for the day when I do actually find another boyfriend. He's adorable. I love him already. He kind of breaks my heart sometimes, but I will always forgive him for it."

"Wow, Vi," Victor took a long, heavy sip from his glass, "I didn't think I was prepared for you to be this serious with someone so quickly. Don't you think the relationship's moving a little fast?"

"And his name is Yurio!" I shoved him a bit, "I promised him that if he did good at practice all week that he and I can log in some hours in the virtual world for the weekend. That is, if it's alright with you."

"He's your son, too," he allowed, "Who am I to separate you two? That's fine. Next weekend, then?"

"It's a date," I beamed. It's been so long since I've done a night in New York City with Victor. I hope Chris tags along, too. If I make up with Celestino before then, he wouldn't have a problem watching Yuri and Yurio. Hell, he might even go as far as doing a night practice with them.

"Speaking of dates," Victor segued, "Chris and I were talking earlier today and we're going to do Malta in a couple weeks. We'll be gone for ten days. Can you do that?"

"I'll put it in my planner." Once I actually get one. I should get on that.

"Wonderful!" his face lit up, "And now, for the hard part…"

"Oh, dammit," I winced preemptively, "I forgot about how much of a bitch these were to take off."

"You'll be alright," Victor tried to comfort me as best as possible. I grabbed the edge of the couch and prepared for the worst, "You ready?"

"Hit me," I cringed. I would rather take a bikini wax over this. A million times over. My poor little face didn't deserve this, but it was sorely needed, "OWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWWW!"

"I'm trying to make this as painless as possible for you, Violet," he apologized, continuing on, "I really am. It's almost done."

"A little quicker, Victor!" I felt so bad for his neighbors. Here I was, sounding like I was being murdered and it was all because of a charcoal mask. In my defense, those hurt. Some people say they feel good, but those people are called masochists and aren't to be trusted.

"There!" Victor kissed my reddened cheek and gave me my wine, "All done."

"Finally," I slammed the rest of my rosé, "That was hell."

"I know, Violet," he snuggled me, "I know. But it's all done. You're all better. Everything's fine now."

"Thank you, Victor," I cuddled into his side, "I really did need something like this."

"Anytime, dorogoy," Victor assured, "Anytime."

"It's getting kind of late," I looked over at the clock, "And I'm sure Chris and the boys are going to be getting back soon. I think I'm going to go to bed."

"Are you sure you don't want to stay a little longer?" he wondered, "Tuck the boys in?"

"I love our boys," I got up from the couch, "But I'm exhausted. And I have to be up in the morning. I'll see them both then. At least Yurio."

"Alright," Victor let me go, "So, I'll see you in the morning?"

"Of course," I gave him a quick kiss, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Remember, Violet," he stood in the door, "You got that double toe loop. And be nice to Celestino."

"I will." If it wasn't for Victor's help, I don't know if I would've landed that to the point where I could make up with Celestino. Underrotate. That's all I needed to remember for tomorrow. That and an eloquent apology for my coach.

 **A/N: This was going to be part of last week's, but Victor and Violet need more cute moments together like this. Also, the bit with Victor talking about Lilia? I saw a comic on Pinterest (I know. Weird place to find my YOI fanart, but I did.) a couple weeks ago and it's become one of my favorite pieces of fanart (right next to one of Victor's bachelor party with him in a wedding dress and Yuri still pole dancing in the background) in the history of man. It was Lilia basically giving Victor a mini makeover and the look in his eyes when she's done made me melt hardcore, so here we are. Not to mention, Victor Nikiforov is a very beautiful boy. But yes. Violet deserved a night off and she got one. This chapter puts a weird feeling in my tum and it's the best. See you next chapter! xx**


	5. Stealing the Show

As my alarm clock ushered in my morning, I fought every urge I had to stay in bed. You know what you need to do, Violet. It won't take me long to get ready. It's how to word the most eloquent apology known to man. If Celestino can appreciate anything, it's pretty words and effort. And coffee. I knew what his guilty pleasure was when he was in the US and looking for a cup of coffee. Celestino liked an iced Americano. No sugar. No sweetener. Cold, dark, bitter. The exact opposite of him in a liquid form.

I did a quick stop by a coffee cart outside the building and headed for the rink. The coach wasn't the only one that needed a caffeine boost. Granted, after whatever voodoo Victor used on my face last night, I slept like a rock, but not for very long. On the way to the rink, I downed my flat white in the back of my cab and watched all the other traffic go by. At this point, I just hope Celestino will forgive me.

When I got to the rink, I threw my bag down on a bench and got my light purple skates on. Coach wasn't even here yet. Unless he was hiding somewhere. The least I could do was stretch a little bit while I'm waiting. In his defense, I was here a little early. What can I say? I'm nothing if not punctual. I liked to think it was an admirable trait.

"Well?" a thick, Italian accent broke the still silence in the rink, "You got an apology for me?"

"And coffee," I cowered a little. Celestino could get scary when he was angry. He appeared unmoved by my peace offering, "I know. I screwed up yesterday. I was beyond pissed at myself and I took that out on you."

"And?" Celestino sipped on his drink.

"And you didn't deserve that," I went on, "I am sorry, Coach. And if you'll have me, I'd like to come back to the rink and skate for you."

Without even thinking about it, my coach threw his arms around me, hugging me tight, "There you are, Violet. It's good to see you again. You and I are ok."

"Good," I relaxed, "Because I don't like when you're mad at me."

"If you really want to redeem yourself," Celestino kissed the top of my head, "Show me that double toe loop that had you so tripped up."

I should've seen that one coming. No problem. I could do this. And I'm not going to bitch at Celestino if I don't. Not that it's not happening. I got this. Without any music, I took a couple laps around the rink to get my speed up. Remember what Victor said, Violet. Underrotate. Underrotate and you'll nail it. Deep breath, focus, and…Execute.

PERFECT!

First try, too! If I wasn't worried about busting my skate, I'd spike it into the ice and do a damn touchdown dance! I did it! Even better yet, I'm back, bitches! Victor might be onto something. Once I get that one trick, it'll be the only block I have for the rest of the season. I skated back to the railing to celebrate with my coach, "How was _that_ for an apology?"

"That's my girl!" he praised, "Very nice, bambina. I'm so proud of you. How'd you figure out what you were doing wrong?"

"After I brought Yurio back to Victor's yesterday," I reached over the partition and grabbed my water bottle, "I came back here to work out the kinks. Victor said that if I underrotated on my jump, I'd land it perfectly every time."

"Maybe Victor should've been your coach this season instead," Celestino teased, "He got you to land your easy tricks when I couldn't."

"Oh, shut up," I rolled my eyes, "Sometimes, it takes a skater's eye to find another's flaw. Besides, I couldn't get rid of you. Out of every coach I've ever had, you're my favorite."

"I'm the only coach you've ever had," he jabbed.

"Hey," I admitted, "At one point, I could've had Yakov as my coach."

"Really?"

"Yeah," I leaned up against the rail, "While he was coaching Yurio, Yakov told me if I ever wanted to get back into the skating game, he would coach me. But even if I didn't have you, I don't think I could deal with Yakov as my coach."

"Why not?" Celestino gasped, "Do you realize how many new skaters would kill to be in that kind of position? To have Yakov Feltsman approach them like that? Usually, they'd be throwing themselves at his feet for something like that!"

"Well," I bit my lip, "Between the way he treated my son last year and my history of an eating disorder, I don't think Yakov and I would be a good fit. Like I said, I got you. I don't want any other coach."

"You flatter me, Violet," he awed, "And I'm sorry. I totally forgot about you and Yakov."

"I wouldn't exactly say I'm over it," I brushed him off, "But no need for your apology. Yakov and I had a moment toward finals and we're civil now."

"Well," Celestino brought us back, "Regardless, we have a lot of work to do before you get into your first competition. What do you want to skate to?"

"For now," I decided, "Stole the Show."

"Ok," he scrolled through my phone, "Wait a minute. Isn't this Yurio's routine?"

"It was our routine," I clarified, "I'm the one who choreographed it. And I'm in that kind of mood."

"Alright," Celestino allowed, "Just a quick warm up. We really do need to get to work on things for this season."

"Got it!" I skated out to the middle of the rink and waited for the song to start.

Once those first few piano notes echoed around the room, they brought me back to skating with Yurio last year. And everything we were saying with Stole the Show. Suddenly, I ripped my own heart out. After last night with Victor, I realized how much I really did miss him. Don't get me wrong. I'm happy that he got his happy ending, but then…What about me? I mean, sure, I'm getting back into my skating career. I still have my boys. What if I wanted more?

The worst part of it all, though? I know Victor still wouldn't hesitate to drop everything for me. I know I shouldn't be complaining. A lot of people who get divorced usually end up hating their ex. They can be lucky, though. After the divorce, it's a messy bloodbath, a clean cut, and that's all she wrote. It's a million times worse when they go through the divorce and are still completely in love with each other.

Although, I think it's a lot more one sided these days. Victor's got Chris. I got my condo above them. I got Nadya. Was this what the rest of my life was doomed to be? Anytime Violet gets in a jam, Victor's going to be the one to clean up any mess it might leave? Was I really that…pathetic? Of course I am. Even now, I'm having a breakdown on the ice…I'm sure he was hiding somewhere, waiting to be my white knight.

"Violet?" Celestino ran out to me, my face tearstained, "Hey…What have I told you about tears on my ice, sweetheart? What's the matter?"

"Nothing," I shook it off, "I just need to skate this one out. I'll be fine, Coach. I promise."

"Alright," Celestino knew better than to pry. Not to mention, he was a sucker when it came to me crying.

I pulled myself up from the ice and skated to my phone. One song. One song only could make me feel better. Thank God, I've spent a lot of time with two young boys that liked their cartoons. There was one show that Yurio was absolutely in love with that I couldn't believe was intended for children. It had a lot of mature themes to it and I'm not talking naked people. Heavier things that young children shouldn't have to go through, but if they do, I'm glad the creators are, in a way, there for them in a different way than anyone else could be. In my many, many hours of watching it with the boys, I've come to fall in love with a certain vampire queen. Girlfriend could jam. She took the family ax and turned it into a bass guitar. And I, for one, love that. In one episode, she got into a fight with the princess and a beautiful song of anger and love sprang from it.

"Ladadadada…" the speakers blared while I did a few lazy spins back to the center of the rink, "I'm going to bury you in the ground…Ladadadada…I'm going to bury you with my sound…"

Heavy riffs and heavier lyrics filled the rink and my heart. I wasn't going to be anyone's problem. I could do things on my own. No more will I wait around for Victor to come to my rescue. I'm a big girl. If I want to stay out all night, I'll do it. If I want to stay in all night, I'll do it. I don't have to feed off Victor's constant support to make myself happy. Just for the hell of it, I might just punch someone in the street. It doesn't matter who. No. Just because I'm on this path of liberation doesn't mean I'm stupid. In moderation. All things in moderation. He's moved on. It's about time I do, too.

The song came to a close and I was ready to fold myself in half over the railing. Violet's tired. Violet's sore. Violet still hasn't told her coach about her bruises on her leg yet. When I woke up, I felt a little stiff, but I'm sure I'm fine. Luckily, I didn't fall much in practice, so I don't have to worry about further injury. And I'm sure if I told Celestino, he'd be yelling at me. Either way, I wanted a nap. And a massage would be nice, but unnecessary.

"Violet," Celestino helped me back up, "Are you…"

"Am I what?" I knew what he was going to say. And I thought he knew better.

"Never mind." I stand corrected. He did know better, "You want to call it a day? You and Yurio still have practice, right?"

"Yeah," I caught my breath, "Tomorrow. We got tomorrow."

"Same time?"

"Same place," I agreed.

Celestino kissed my cheek, "We'll get there. I have no doubt in my mind that we'll get to the Grand Prix Final this year. You both will. Good luck, bambina."

"Thanks, Coach," I sighed out, ready to call it a day already.

But unfortunately, I couldn't do that. I had to get my baby and get him on the ice, too. First things first, though, I needed to score some more coffee. And maybe another latte for Yurio. I wonder what he'd be like with enough caffeine in him. It's not like I'd start him out on espresso. That's just irresponsible. His heart would give out. I got his latte half-caff instead. Just a little bit. Just enough to get him moving. And maybe have a little more energy on the ice…

"Yuri," I kept my voice down and sat at the edge of his bed, "Yuri, wake up."

"What's that smell?" Yurio barely opened his eyes.

"What's it smell like?" I wondered, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Please don't say sweat.

"Like the café we went to yesterday," he rolled into me, "It's delightful."

"Good nose, kid," I sat him up, "That's exactly what it is. I got you the same hot chocolate you liked yesterday."

"Yay!" Yurio took his cup from me, "I like my apple juice, Mama, but I think this might be my new favorite."

"That's my boy," I kissed the top of his head, "Go get ready. I'll be waiting."

"Ok," he drank a little bit and a smile was soon plastered on his face, "I really like this one, Mama."

"Go on," I shooed him, "And once you try doing coffee in the shower, it's a whole new experience."

"Ok!"

He was so simple. Once my baby was all clean and ready to go, Yurio and I hit the rink. I loved the path he decided to take this season with doing fame as his theme. It's so easy, yet so complex. And with his ego, I think he'll be able to pull it off. Yurio walks the fine line between cocky and confident already. He's already got the fame mindset. My baby's going to end up a rockstar after this season. I could feel it in my soul.

"Alright, Yuri," I finished tying his skates, "We're going to try something different. I know you're used to skating a certain genre, but we're going to break away from the pop princesses for now."

"What do you mean?" Yurio wondered, "I thought I was going to skate Primadonna this year."

"And you will," I assured, going through my music library, "I'm thinking we try something a little harder. Not harder in difficulty, but harder in sound. That's the beautiful thing about your music choices. If you keep people on their toes, you'll impress the judges that much more, too. It's good to be varied. I know you like skating to Marina and I can't blame you. But try things my way for a bit."

"Fine," he caved, "What am I skating to?"

"Another song about the tortures of fame," I grinned, "When I was in high school, this was one of my favorites. It's called Bullet with Butterfly Wings."

"Interesting," Yurio mirrored me. That's my boy.

"You think you can do something on the spot for me?" I requested.

"I'd love to," he started heading out to the ice. Almost a little too quick for my taste. Last time he ran like that, I thought he busted out his front teeth. We couldn't have that right now. I don't care how far away competition season was. Putting Yurio through something like that was not in the cards.

"Go on," I sent him off, "Center ice. If you want to try big jumps, clear it with me first, ok?"

"Can I do it on this song?"

"Absolutely not," I put my foot down, "But thank you for asking first."

"Fine…"

I had a feeling Yurio would be into this. It's loud, it's angry, and if I told him that it was one of those songs that Victor would turn off when we were in the car together, it'd be come his new favorite song. But then again, when I found the Smashing Pumpkins while I was still in high school, all I wanted to do was thrash around my room, blaring music that pissed off my parents.

Going by the way he was on the ice, I didn't even have to give the song backstory. Yurio was into it. He really was my son. We may not share blood, but goddamn, that boy was mine. And he makes Mama proud. The only problem was with this song, Yurio kept tripping over himself trying to keep up to the music. I don't understand. The beat was practically the same as Primadonna. He should be nailing this one, too. Nevertheless…

"I like that one, Mama," Yurio skated back to the partition, out of breath, "But it's too fast."

"I'm sure if you work on it," I figured, finding a different song, "You'd be able to get it, no problem. You tried it. You liked it. We can move on. You want something within genre now instead of alternative rock made years before you were born?"

"Yes, please."

"Alright," I scrolled, "This one is another one that touches on the negative sides of fame. Everyone tells the girl that, because she's famous, she's lucky. Little do they know, she's incredibly lonely and depressed and all they can do is tell her she's lucky. And she gets too in her head about it."

"Why doesn't she just give it all up?" Yurio worried, caught up in the story.

"Because," I explained, "She's too deep into it. And if the constant stream of attention stops, what then? Why did they all turn on her? Why don't they love her anymore? It's kind of a double edge sword."

"Mama," he asked, "Did you ever deal with that when you were skating?"

"Not really," I thought back, "Because I always had Victor there to keep me grounded. Now, go. Make me proud."

"Ok." I know it was an innocent question, but Yurio hit me somewhere I didn't need to be hit today. And it wasn't the first time that spot in my heart has been hit either. I need to stop getting so into my head. That's no good for you, Violet. That's when you need to bust out the bottle of bourbon and drown that shit while you're ahead.

It's too bad I didn't like bourbon, though. Once the song came to an end, Yurio was ready to call it. I could see it in his eyes. He made a lot of big jumps today and I couldn't be prouder. I'm just glad he didn't come crashing down on any of them. He skated back toward the partition and reached for his water bottle.

"Ready to rest up before I take you to the Madame, baby?" I asked, picking him up over the wall.

"Yeah," Yurio collapsed on the bench, "But Mama, why did you pick something so sad?"

"That's just the nature of the beast, Yuri," I shrugged, "It happens to the best of them who let their head get too big. That's what a good support system's for. Fortunately for us, we both have that. Now, come on. We need to get you home."

And to not talk about the monster that fame can be anymore. At first, I was completely down for this. I loved the thought of Yurio exploring how fame would affect him, but it backfired on me. His routines were screwing with my head. To get myself back on track, I thought about my own theme. Lust. It sounds like fun. My whole program is going to be like seeing the Red Light District on ice and I couldn't wait. I should've thought it through a little better, though. Looks like Victor and Chris are going to be having the talk with the boys sooner than they thought. They had to learn sometime.

HOLD ON A MINUTE!

If anyone could help me get back into that kind of a mindset, I knew one man that wouldn't hesitate. The one person I knew who could help me find a certain sense of Eros that would make the judges swoon. And lucky me, I knew where he lived. I had to bring Yurio back anyway. It's worth a shot. The worst he can do is say no.

"Yurio!" Speak of the beautiful devil, "We missed you! How was practice?"

"PUT ME DOWN, UNCLE CHRIS!" Yurio squealed, trying to fight his embrace, "MAMA!"

"Chris," I settled him, "We've been over this."

"That's right," Chris pouted, putting Yurio's feet back on the floor, "I'm sorry. I got a little excited."

"Actually," I smiled, "I need to ask you a favor."

"Me?" he wondered, "Of course, Violet. What's on your mind?"

"Yuri, go to your room," I sent him off, "Rest up. I'll be back in a little while to get you."

"Must be serious," Chris assumed while Yurio did as I asked, "Is everything alright?"

"I don't want you to take offense to this," I prefaced, "But you're the single most lustful person I've ever met in my life."

"Thank you," he took the compliment.

"And my theme this year is lust," I went on, "I'm having some trouble tapping into my inner slut and I was wondering if you could help me with that…"

"Absolutely!" Chris' face lit up, "Are you busy tonight?"

"Not that I know of," I did a quick assessment in my head, "Why?"

"We start tonight," he ordered, "Vitya!"

"What?" Victor called from the bathroom, "Make it quick, Chris. Yuri and I have the rink from noon to one and we can't miss that slot."

"Do you have a date with Violet tonight?"

"No."

"Good!" Chris chirped, "That makes one of us!"

Why did I have that feeling I might have bit off more than I could chew…?

 **A/N: I know. I know. It's up late. I have a perfectly good excuse of why. For some reason last night, I got a sudden urge to move around my bedroom furniture. For a good portion of my day today, I was moving around my bedroom furniture, hadamildpanicattackbutimoknow, and it put the story a little far back. But! I did get it up tonight. And that's what counts. Now, as for Chris and Violet…**

 **They have a friendship, too! It's a shame we haven't seen much of it, but there was the mention on Yuri's birthday when Victor had gotten sick, stayed in the hotel room, and Chris and Violet went to Coney Island. And Violet bought Chris new shoes that day. Because Chris is kind of Extra™. That's why he and Victor work so well together! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to treat myself to some pastel pens from the internet. See you next chapter! xx**


	6. American Boy

**A/N: Hi, guys. Just as a sort of trigger warning, there's going to be light mentions of BDSM in this chapter, but not in too heavy detail. This is not, I repeat, NOT a smut chapter.**

Taking Yurio to Madame for dance lessons was the smartest decision I will ever make as his coach. Madame may not be a professional, but damn, she should be. And it was pretty sweet of Ernie to let us use the club before hours to practice. I wasn't sure if it was the weight off my shoulders after apologizing to Celestino. Maybe my outstanding date with Chris. The fact that Yurio was soaking everything up like a sponge. Everything seemed so...I don't know. Perfect. Life was good.

"Alright, sweetheart," Madame took a second to catch her breath, "I think we can call it a day. My hip's starting to act up. I can't move like I used to."

"Are you ok?" I worried. When I was still working here, Madame's hip would bother her then. I can only imagine it's gotten worse over the years.

"I'll live," she sat on the edge of the stage, "You did a good job today, Yuri. I'm proud of you."

"Thank you, Madame," Yurio fell to the floor, just as tired as she was.

"Now, before you go," Madame had a glint in her eye that I learned to fear on my first day here, "Violet...You and I need to have a little talk."

Shit. She's going to kill me, "Yes, Madame?"

"Am I going to have any other new students?" she smirked, "Any at all?"

I knew it. Ever since I brought up Madame teaching Yurio and told her about my comeback, she had been itching to get me back. I knew she would do it. All I had to do was say yes. The scheduling would be a bit of a problem, though. I couldn't do lessons in the afternoon. That was Yurio's slot. The mornings were no good either. I was coaching Yurio for some of that. When I wasn't at the rink. I'd have to talk Celestino into moving practice to nights and do my dance lessons in the morning.

"I'll need to have a chat with my coach first," I hid a little smile, "But for the most part...Yeah. I can't say no to you."

"Yay!" Madame's face lit up, "It'll be just like the old days! Do you still have the same coach, Violet?"

"Still Celestino and me," I nodded, "Nothing's changed, except for me doing double duty. Why does that matter?"

"If Celestino has any problems," she insisted, "You send him to me. You're not the only one who can't say no to me."

"What's she talking about, Mama?" Yurio wondered as an image flashed in my mind that I never wanted to see, "Madame, do you know Celestino?"

"Yes, I do," Madame grinned darkly.

"Don't worry about it, Yuri," I gagged, "Get your shoes on and grab your jacket."

"Yes, ma'am," Yurio jumped up from the floor.

"Not giving him the talk yet?" Madame assumed, taking a long drink from her water bottle.

"That's something for Chris and Victor and me to do at a later date," I grumbled. But then, my program for the season popped in my head. Oops, "We'll wait a little while longer. Now, if you'll excuse us, we're going to get some coffee."

"We're getting coffee?" Yurio perked up. That's my boy.

"On the way back home," I promised, "I'm sure Victor's worried."

"I doubt it," he figured, "Between Bacon Bits and Uncle Chris, I'm sure Victor has plenty to keep him busy."

"Regardless," I threw my son on my shoulders, "He still worries. And what have I said about calling Yuri a pig?"

"Fine," Yurio let out a little yawn, completely uninterested, "Bye, Madame. See you tomorrow."

"Bye, baby," Madame waved, "And Violet, don't forget to talk to Celestino about dance lessons."

"I won't," I swore, making a mental note of it. Ask Celestino about dance lessons.

By the time Yurio and I got to the cafe, he was already napping. At least he was still small enough where I didn't have to wake him up. Besides, I already knew what he wanted. However, I wanted Yurio to get some sleep tonight and I loved Victor, so he'll have to be ok with decaf. Mama, on the other hand, had plans with Uncle Chris tonight. A double shot of espresso would be my saving grace.

Once I got back to Chris and Victor's, I don't think anyone noticed I walked in...Huh...Empty house, maybe? No matter. I took Yurio to his room and laid him down. My baby had a long day. He could use the rest. You're definitely earning this weekend, kid. Before you come over, I'll need to do some shopping, though. I know I give Chris and Victor crap for not going grocery shopping, but my fridge looked just as vacant. Anyway, rest well, Dovahkiin. I love you.

I poked my head in Yuri's bedroom, just to see if he was doing ok. He was curled up on his bed with Makkachin sleeping next to him, watching Spirited Away. Victor always put on Studio Ghibli movies for him. I might have had a hand in that. He and I watched them on the road all the time. All seemed right with the world in the Nikiforov-Giacometti household. I must admit, I'm a little jealous.

Instead of wallowing in that jealousy, I would wallow in my hot tub for a while. My joints were killing me and my bruises were looking rough. Big purple, black, and yellow splotches covered up and down my legs. Whatever Chris had planned for tonight, I was covering my legs up. The world didn't need to see this mess. Hopefully, no one ever will.

This adjustment was still a bit strange. The silence and solitude. It's not like I had my boys up my ass when we were all together, but I could still feel their presence. The only thing that gave me that feeling anymore was Nadya. She sat at the edge of my hot tub with me while I relaxed with a glass of white. I missed all my boys dearly, but Mama's alone time wasn't too bad either.

"You started without me?" a beautiful Swiss man stood on my balcony, "What the hell, Violet? I thought we had something special."

"The only thing we had special between us was Victor," I pointed out, "Our friendship was a nice byproduct, though."

"Love you, too," Chris dropped his pants and got in with me. I should be surprised, but...Well...It's Chris, "So, what are we drinking?"

"Pinot grigio," I handed him my empty glass, "You want any?"

"Why not?" he accepted graciously while I poured him a glass, "But what about you?"

"Every bottle comes with its own glass," I took a drink straight from the bottle, "But only if you're brave enough."

"That's the sign of a drinking problem, though," Chris took the bottle from me, "You have two little boys to think of."

"And two big ones," I laid my head on his shoulder, "So, my dear Christophe, what are we doing tonight?"

"You'll see," he gave me a quick kiss on the top of my head, "For now, we need to get you ready."

"For what?" I got a bit nervous, snaking the bottle back, "Should I be scared?"

"Not necessarily scared," Chris settled me, "But I do have an evening planned for us. And none of it involves staying in your hot tub. Come on."

"I don't want to," I pouted, "Can't we just stay in tonight?"

"You asked for my help with your theme, Violet," he took my hand and helped me out of the hot tub, "This is how I'm helping."

"You can't help any other way?" I whined.

"Nope."

"Well, shit," I put the stopper on my wine bottle and threw it in the fridge. When I saw Chris start heading toward my bathroom, it only made me worse. I'm just overthinking. Everything's fine.

"Sit down, Violet," a knot started forming in my stomach while Chris was going through my stuff. My makeup brushes...My straightener...Six different eyeshadow palettes. Chris, what in God's green Earth were you planning on doing? I shut my eyes and prayed for this to be over.

"Ow!" I felt a quick jolt of pain coming from my forehead. Followed by another one, "Ow! What the hell, Chris?"

"Don't be such a baby," he shut me up, "You act like this is the first time I've ever touched your eyebrows. Which, by the way, for the love of all holy, when was the last time they had any love?"

"I've been busy lately," I scoffed, flinching from another one, "Between moving and practices for not only me, but Yurio, too, forgive me if I've taken the back burner."

"You don't deserve that," Chris went on inflicting bodily pain on me, "Treat yourself once in a while or I'll have to intervene again."

"You could stand to be a little nicer, though!" I cringed, "Goddamn, Chris!"

"I'm sorry," he stepped up the pace a little, "I'm really not trying to put you through too much."

"Then, distract me," I insisted, "Really and truly, where are we going tonight?"

"This club I know," Chris told me, "You're not the only one who's danced in clubs in New York City."

"Oh?" I perked up, "Do tell."

"This was about a year before I really met Victor," he explained, "But like I said, you'll see. And I need you to promise me you won't judge."

"Sweetie, I danced in a burlesque club and escorted on the side," I giggled, "I have no room to judge. Color me desensitized."

"Whatever you say," Chris threw my tweezers aside and started playing with the rest of my face, "Do you trust me?"

"Relatively."

"Fantastic!" he beamed, digging out the more dramatic colored palette and a darker, vampy red lip color.

Yeah. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't worried. I mean, Chris has done my makeup before. Even for competition (although, I'd rather Victor do it. He'd take me away from the team Celestino had for me and bring me back to Earth.). That's not what's bothering me. It's not knowing what he was up to. Chris was keeping me entirely in the dark about tonight and that horrified me.

Our unattended adventures were always just that. An adventure. And when two people with no impulse control are let loose on the streets of New York without the group mom to tell us no, that's when things get messy. I just hope we don't come out of tonight needing bail. If we can get through this without police involvement, we'll be golden.

By the time Chris was done playing with my face and yanking on my hair, he was already off in my closet. With all of the hell he's just put me through, I better look ok. Damn, I looked more than ok. I looked down right sexy. Smokey eyes, red lips, a little bit more bounce in my purple hair. If I was trying to find some Eros to put into my lustful program this year, I might as well look the part.

"Violet!" Chris called from my bedroom, "Don't you have anything sluttier than this?"

"Sorry," I got up, "That's all I got."

"You don't have anything packed away still?"

"I'm all unpacked," I jumped onto my bed.

"Fils de pute," he grumbled under his breath, "Not giving me much to work with, are you?"

"Sorry," I shrugged, "I've been a mother of two young boys and a wife for a while. My sexy clothes went out the window."

"What's this?" Chris pulled out a long, black formal dress out of the back of my closet, "And where has it been all my life?"

"What do you mean?" I giggled, "You don't plan on stealing it, do you?"

"No," he reciprocated the sentiment, "But just out of curiosity, how long have you had this dress?"

"A few years," I figured, "I got it for a Grand Prix banquet. Why?"

"And whose credit card did you put this on?"

"Victor's."

"Do you have any sentimental attachment to it?" Chris looked it over.

"No," I gave him a look, "Why?"

"Put it on," he opened up my nightstand and took my small sewing kit out, "I have an idea."

"Chris..." I worried, taking my dress from him, "What are you doing?"

"Making lemonade out of lemons. Just trust me."

"I'm having a hard time with that," I went back into my bathroom and stripped down, switching my sweats for that dress.

"Violet, mon ami," Chris awed, "When have I ever steered you wrong?"

"There was that one night in Tokyo," I remembered.

"That was an accident," he immediately jumped on the defensive, "How was I supposed to know you couldn't handle sushi? Or that it'd be served off a man?"

"Three hours puking was not fun, Chris," I quivered, "So, yes. You have steered me wrong."

"But this is not one of those times," Chris promised, spinning my scissors around his finger, "Do you have a step stool?"

"I have a kitchen chair."

"That'll do." Chris and I spent the next half hour in my kitchen while he went Sweeney Todd on my dress, making it a little shorter...Then, a lot shorter...Then, a little gasp came out of his throat, "My god, Violet. Is Celestino beating you? Do you need to talk?"

"No," I rolled my eyes, "I've taken a few falls at practice. I'm fine. Don't worry about it."

"I mean," he held a pin between his teeth, "I understand, but you haven't had bruises like this since you started. Have you been looked at?"

"I'm fine, Chris," I snapped, "They don't even hurt. You can poke at them all you want."

"It'll only make them worse," Chris finished pinning off the bottom hem and made his cut, "We should cover them."

"Capital idea," I approved. My foundation could cover anything and lasted an eternity.

After a new hem was stitched on my dress and my legs looked like I never fell in the first place, Chris gave me a pair of five-inch heels and the two of us went a floor below. All this time spent on me and now, I had to traipse into my ex-husband's condo with his current husband while our two boys under the age of ten could see their mama looking like sex on a stick. Great idea, Chris. When have you ever steered me wrong? Other than the sushi man.

"Relax," Chris caught on to my apprehension, "Victor and the boys aren't home. They're doing the grocery shopping and getting dinner. I'm not so tactless."

"Good," I took my seat on the kitchen counter, watching Makkachin sleep like a baby on the couch.

"I shouldn't be long," he figured.

"Yes," I teased, "Because how long does it take you to change and put your eyelashes on?"

"Excuse me?" Chris gasped, "I don't wear fake eyelashes."

"Bullshit," I called him out, "I know you do!"

"Nope!" he yelled from the bedroom, "Those are lies!"

"Christophe, I've known you too long," I swung my legs over the counter, "I'm not saying they're full sets, but I know you half them. You can't hide your secrets from me. I'm like a bloodhound."

"Tell anyone and I may be inclined to kill you," Chris came clean. I knew it.

I also knew Chris wouldn't have passed this up for the world. He and I haven't hung out in so long. Even while Victor and I were married, we never did anything while he was in town. Mostly because usually, he was too busy doing Victor. But nevertheless, I loved playing with Chris. I could say tonight made me nervous all I wanted to, but those nerves were more excitement than anything. Once Chris left a note for Victor, sending his love, we grabbed a car and started heading into the seedier underbelly of Brooklyn.

Alright. Good feeling starting to subside. No, Violet. This is going to be a fun night. Relax. The sushi man was an accident. Regardless, our driver stopped outside a place called Cosmos. I've heard of this place from some of the girls and Ernie once or twice. And there were a lot of leather clad patrons standing outside.

"Chris, where the hell did you take me?" I froze.

"No judgment," Chris defended, bringing me inside. Loud, bassy techno shook the room and the inside of my eardrum while people were hanging from swings and cages, chained up on tables, racks. Women in corsets and thigh high leather boots. Men in assless chaps and ball gags.

"Chris," I wrapped my arm around his, "Again. What the hell kind of place did you take me to?"

"I damn near dressed you in white," he admitted, "But for your first time in here, I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"You didn't think this would overwhelm me?" I gasped, "What would've happened if you did put me in white?"

"You would've been a prime target for demonstration," Chris wrapped his arms around me, "Violet, you're fine. You wanted a chance to get some of your Eros back. Why not take you somewhere that oozes sex? Have you never been to a BDSM club before?"

"No," I shook my head, "Even when I was working the club scene, I got off work and went home. I didn't venture out too much."

"All you need to know," he comforted, "is that no still means no. The safe word is the most important word you will know all night. And everything is entirely confidential and safe. If anything goes somewhere you don't want it to, talk to a bartender. One of them will tell a bouncer and you'll be ok. Fortunately, you know someone that's in good with the owner."

"I do?" I wondered. Something tells me Madame knew some people here. She always kept an eclectic mix of friends.

"I told you that you weren't the only one who danced in clubs in this town," Chris got a big grin on his face, "That cage over there was mine at one point. I'm sure if I look hard enough, I can find my leather shorts in the closet. My ass looked fantastic in them."

"How in the hell did you get to dancing in here?" I freaked, "Don't get me wrong. You're the biggest slut I know."

"Former slut, but thank you…"

"But seriously…" I asked, "How did that happen?"

"I met this guy," Chris spun the tale, getting us a seat at the bar, "He said he had a club uptown and asked me if I'd do a couple nights a week. I wasn't going to say no. He was cute. A little twinkish for my taste, but like I said. He was cute. We're not here for stories. I want you to walk out of here with some numbers."

"I don't know…"

"You said you wanted to slut up," he gave me a nudge, "I just gave you an all-you-can-eat buffet of fetishes as far as the eye can see. Detach the idea that sex equals love and act on pure, physical instinct. That, my dear Violet, is true Eros."

"But I don't think I can do a casual thing," I bit my lip, "I'm more of a relationship type."

"You're holding yourself back too much," Chris rolled his eyes. But then, in the same motion, they were about to fall out of his head, "Willam!"

"No way!" a sweet little voice squeaked out, attached to a little dark haired man bolting in our direction, "Christophe!"

"I missed you so much!" Chris held the little man in his arms, "It's been ages since I've seen you!"

"I missed you, too!" the man laid his head on his shoulder, "You wouldn't want to head to the champagne room for old time's sake, would you?"

"Sorry," Chris put him down and showed him his hand, "I got married."

"Tease," the little sass king whined, "And who's this? You can't tell me this is your wife."

"No," Chris corrected him, "But I did marry her ex-husband, for what it's worth."

"I smell an episode of Springer," he jabbed, "Then, who is she?"

"This is Violet," he introduced me, "Violet, this is Willam. This is his club."

"Pleasure," I wasn't feeling up to meeting new people. Being around this big of a crowd was starting to make me sweat.

"She's needing a little encouragement," Chris shoved me forward, "She doesn't do casual hookups and she's in desperate need of it."

"Hey!"

"Maybe some liquid encouragement," Willam suggested, calling over one of the bartenders, "Violet, have you ever tried absinthe?"

"No," I grew skeptical, "Why?"

"Because," he started pouring shots, "Absinthe and melon midori is a house special. A little something, something I like to call the troublemaker."

"Why's it called the troublemaker?" I asked, downing the contents of my tiny glass. Huh. Not bad.

"Because," Chris had a little smirk on his face, "After enough of them, they'll make you a troublemaker."

"It's what we give our first timers to loosen them up," Willam put his hand on my shoulder.

"That's going to be your liquid encouragement, Violet," Chris hugged me from behind, "If tonight doesn't inspire your Eros, nothing will."

"In that case," I put my glass down on the bar, "Do you think I could get another one?"

"Absolutely!"

And so began our evening. After a few drinks, I could understand why they were called the troublemaker. In my slightly intoxicated state, I got brave. There she was. My inner slut was going to come out to play. Especially when there's a pole left unattended. This was bringing me back to my days at the burlesque club. I never got to be one of the girls on the pole, but after hours? Hell yeah! That took some core strength and I never lost that muscle. And probably just as cool, I didn't get tips in money. I got them in phone numbers!

And to make it even better, I'm not the only one on the pole. Chris and I practically battled each other. But only one of us ended up back in his cage. Willam turned on American Boy by Estelle and Chris started going at it. I've seen Chris dance before but never like this. And I couldn't let it go undocumented! I GOT A BETTER IDEA!

"Hello…?" a voice grumbled on the end of the phone.

"VICTOR!" I beamed, "HI!"

"Violet?" Victor groaned, "It's, like, one in the morning…"

"Do you know where your husband is?" I slurred a little.

"Are you ok?" he worried like such a good friend. He's so sweet…

"He's in a cage half naked," I told him, "Good for him, though. I don't have that kind of body confidence. But Chris? It doesn't matter where he is."

"Violet, where are you?"

"I don't remember what this place was called," I looked around for a sign, "Some sexy club Chris took me to."

"Cosmos by any chance?"

"Yeah!" I squeaked, "Wait, Victor, are you mad at me?"

"No, Violet," he sighed out, "Stay there. Yoptel-mopsel…"

"I'll take a video!" I promised, "This is too good not to have on hand."

"I'm calling Celestino."

"Why…?" I whined, "Why do we need to bring Dad into this?"

"Stay there, Violet," Victor demanded, "I'll be there soon."

"I love you!"

"I love you, too…"

Click!

"Hey, Chris!" I stood under his cage, "Guess what?"

"What, Violet?" Chris continued shaking that nice little ass of his.

"Victor's coming to play with us!" I sang, "He said he's calling Celestino, too, so he might be coming to play with us, too!"

"Yay!" Chris smiled, "There are some places in this club I wouldn't mind taking Victor. Or Celestino, if he's ok with it. Now, come up here and dance with me!"

"My pleasure," I took his hand and Chris pulled me into his cage where the two of us did one more troublemaker each and proceeded to shake our asses together. This was a great idea. I don't know why I was so apprehensive about it in the beginning. We needed to make this a regular thing! At least once a week. Or twice a week. Or every night! That'd be awesome!

"Violet," a delightful Russian accent called up to us, "Chris, it's time to go home."

"Victor!" I opened up the cage and jumped down into his arms, kissing his cheek, "I missed you!"

"Come on, Victor," Chris begged, "Can't we stay a little longer?"

"I think it's time to go for both of you," Victor killed the buzz.

"Okie dokie!" I chimed, "Bye, new friends! I'll miss you!"

 **A/N: I wanted some of Chris and Violet's friendship. Forgive me for being selfish, but I love this chapter. It brought me such joy. And the fact that it's hella long should keep you lovelies satisfied, yeah? Is that cool with you? I was going to break it off, but I'm glad I didn't. All that aside, you can't tell me Chris isn't into some things. That cage he was dancing in is pregnant with a litter from that night. And Victor doesn't sound too impressed. We'll find out more next week. By the way! I believe we'll be celebrating Christophe's birthday next week. Like…In exactly a week. Yay! I get to update this on Valentine's Day instead of binging Dramatical Murder and white knuckling it! Regardless, see you next chapter! xx**


	7. What Am I Going To Do With You?

**A/N: Happy Valentine's Day, you cuties. Today is a day where you either feel uber grateful for your S.O or you're slightly bummed you don't have one. Or you just flat out don't care. Either way, if you do want something to celebrate today…It is Christophe's birthday. Will I be mentioning anything like that in this week's chapter? No. Because timelines didn't work that way. Oh, well. Maybe for Yurio's birthday in a couple weeks, I'll do something. I did last year. It's called Surprise. Hintity hint hint…Anyway.**

 **If you're one of the many like me who are a little meh at not having someone for Valentine's Day, I will be more than happy to be your valentine this year. This is your one (1) senpai notice me pass. So, enjoy, my loving little kohai. Because not only is senpai noticing you, but senpai also loves you very, very much. And she shall be spending her Valentine's Day on the couch with a bag of mini marshmallows and some Cupcake Wars, instead of her traditional binge of Dramatical Murder…Maybe Dramatical Murder THEN Cupcake Wars…Or I just hang out with you guys instead. Enjoy!**

I feel like shit. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. I feel like absolute shit. Christophe, what the hell did you give me last night? The last thing I remember was a really sexy man asking if he could take me to one of the playrooms upstairs. He said he wanted to paddle my ass to the beat of the bongo drums in Toto's Africa. I wasn't sure what that meant, so I said no. After that, everything is kind of a blur. Where was I? Who did I go home with? Whoever it was, please still be as much of a ten as you were last night. Or at least an eight.

"It's good to see you're awake," a voice broke the silence in my dark room, "How are you feeling, Violet?"

Although it's throbbing, my head was still a little fuzzy. However, I could pick this voice out of a crowd anywhere. A sudden wave of calm pushed back the nauseam, "I've been better. Some water would be nice."

"I'm sure it would be…" Victor sat on the bed with me, "But before you get your water, you and I need to have a little talk."

"Victor," I groaned, "I already have a hangover from hell. Can you spare me the lecture?"

"This is no lecture," he clarified, his voice keeping a flat tone, "I'm not happy, Violet."

"Imagine being in my shoes."

"No," Victor hushed me, "No snarky comments. No witty retorts. When I say you and I are going to talk, I'm going to talk and you're going to listen."

"Alright," I nestled down in the blankets, bracing myself for what was about to come. Victor was pissed. There's no doubt about it. And I was never sure if he was going to stew in silence for a while before calmly venting or totally explode. For the sake of my head, I really hope it's the first one.

"First of all," he kept his head about him. Good sign, "What all do you remember from last night?"

"Not very much," I admitted, "I don't even remember coming here. Is this my condo or yours?"

"Mine," Victor filled me in, "Last night, you and my idiot husband went to a club called Cosmos."

"That I remember."

"What else do you remember?"

"Some of the rules," I thought hard, "There was some kind of no-no about dressing me in white. The safe word was stapler. There was some guy trying to hit on Chris, but Chris told him he was married, so he left him alone. Then, there was that guy with the paddle…After that, I'm drawing a blank."

"The guy flirting with Chris," Victor asked, "Was his name Willam, by chance?"

"I think so," I rubbed my eyes, "I got nothing else."

"According to the pictures," he pulled my phone off the charger. God bless him, he thought ahead, "You were quite the pole dancer. And the cage dancer, too. And some guy named Mike keeps texting you. He said he missed the rains down in Africa."

"That's what his name was!" I squeaked, "That would've driven me nuts. Thank you."

"You called me," Victor continued, glaring a little bit, "You also sent me a video of Chris dancing in a cage that was poorly shot. I came and got you and Chris and one in the morning. Celestino came over to stay with Yuri and Yurio. They're both at practice with him right now, in case you were wondering."

"Good," I sighed out, "They don't need to see this."

"Then, don't put them in that position!" he snapped. Uh-oh. I'm getting the worst of both worlds, "Violet, why did you get so stupid last night? What were you thinking? What were you hoping to accomplish?"

"I needed some inspiration for my program this year," I nursed my aching head in the fallout, "Some water please, Victor. If you even love me in the least bit."

"I understand wanting to get inspired," Victor threw a bottle of water at me, "But you're better than this, Violet."

The acidity in Victor's voice burned a hole in my heart. He was genuinely pissed off at me. I knew his grudges never lasted long, but when they're there, they hurt. My hangover wasn't nearly as bad as a Victor grudge. I'd take the hangover a million times over and amplified. I could see it all over his face and somehow, that made this even worse.

"Am I?" I caught my breath after a long, cold drink I felt in the pit of my stomach, "Am I really better than that?"

"Yes!" he growled, "You're a good girl, Violet. You're not some classless slut willing to sleep with anything with a pulse. There's a difference between being lustful and being reckless. And you were in no shape to be making rational decisions last night."

There it was. What lust truly meant. Like Chris said, love and lust aren't exactly the same thing. To expand on that, coupled with what Victor just triggered in my brain, lust doesn't have to make sense. I've been thinking way too much about this! It's not a rational thought. It was mere instinct and a primal, carnal one at that. Awesome. I just got the mindset. Thanks, Victor. Who would've thought you bitching at me would've worked?

"I think you have me on too high of a pedestal, Victor," I cuddled into the pillows.

"Wouldn't you if you were me?" Victor started to lighten up, "Mother of my children. My best friend. My wife at one time. You can't really blame me."

"A fall from that high could kill me…"

"You're not going to fall," he assured, 'Because we're not going to revisit this incident, are we?"

"Not for a while anyway," I sat up in bed, "The hangover sucks. I forgot what one of these felt like. I haven't drank like that in ages."

"London?" Victor guessed, a little smile gracing his face.

"You woke up in my panties," I laid my head on his thigh, feeling even more tired, "I was in your clothes from the night before. Chris was completely naked and spooning a giant stuffed banana. And poor, unsuspecting Yakov got an eyeful."

"He wasn't happy…"

"No, he was not," I giggled, "Was that the first time Yakov ever saw Chris naked?"

"No," Victor shook his head, "But that's not something someone gets used to seeing. I thought Yakov was going to kill me after that. You do know you'll probably go through the same situation with Celestino later, right? He's just as happy with you as I was."

"I'm not looking forward to that," I whined, "You think you could do a girl a solid and take that heat for me?"

"No, no, no," he sang, "That's not my heat to take, young lady. You've dealt with Celestino before. I know you can do it again. Besides, you know you're his ultimate weakness."

"I know," I blushed.

"But before you do that," Victor covered me up, "I suggest you get some more sleep."

"Ok," I let out a huge yawn, "Hey, Victor?"

"What?" Victor pulled my hair out of my face. Good. He's come back around.

"Can I ask you a favor?" I bat my eyelashes at him, fully aware that I'm not only Celestino's biggest weakness.

"Sure," he allowed, "What do you need?"

I curled into Victor's lap, reveling in the warmth of his body and the comfort it gave me, "Will you stay with me? Just until I fall back asleep?"

He thought it over for a minute or two. This would be the true telling factor of whether or not he was still mad at me. He sung his legs up onto the bed and pulled me to his chest. Memories of the old days swelled in my eyes, "Of course I will. Chris went to a yoga class, so he shouldn't be back for a while."

"Even if he does see us like this," I figured, "It's not like I'm having sex with you. We're not doing anything wrong."

"Exactly," he kissed the top of my head, "Go to sleep, Violet."

"I can't," I could already feel myself nodding off, "If I fall asleep, you'll leave me."

"Violet," Victor cradled me, "I promise I'll still be here when you wake up. I'm not going anywhere, dorogoy."

With those few words of reassurance, I drifted back to sleep in Victor's arms. Every part of me was fighting the urge to break down right then and there. I missed this feeling. Of love…Security…Comfort. This warm, soothing feeling. I knew it wasn't going to last long, but for however long I had it, no one could take it away from me.

A little while later, I woke up to my stomach rumbling. It wasn't sure if it was about to empty out on the floor or if it wanted food. My money was on the latter. At least I'm hoping so. Because puking did not sound like fun times for Violet. After a further assessment of my current state, I did feel better. Tons better. Also, as promised, Victor hadn't moved.

"Hi there," he smiled down at me, "How are you feeling, Vi?"

"Better," I rubbed my eyes, "I'm starving, though. What time is it?"

"Shortly after two," Victor helped me up, "I got up a little while ago and figured you'd be hungry, so I started cooking. I'm sorry that I wasn't here the whole time."

"You told me you'd be here when I woke up, though," I pointed out, "So, it's not all bad. Besides, there's food involved."

"Also," he filled me in, "The boys are home. Chris is home. Celestino's still here. I told him to go easy on you, but I'm not sure if he is or not."

"He will," I assured, "It's Celestino."

"Why don't you go take a shower?" Victor suggested, "I have pirozhkis to attend to."

"Baked or fried?" I wondered. I thought I smelled something yummy and Victor's cooking never disappointed.

"Baked," he steadied me while I stumbled a few steps. Damn, Violet. Are you still drunk? I still don't remember what Chris gave me, but I had the sneaking suspicion I was visited by a green fairy, "I figured you didn't need all the grease and I don't feel like mopping."

"That's awfully considerate."

"You want me run upstairs and get you some clothes?" Victor offered.

"No," I shook my head, "That's fine. I am stealing your sweats, though."

"Go ahead."

I dug through Chris and Victor's closet and pulled out a pair of Victor's sweatpants that I knew were WAY too long for me. Regardless, their shower awaited me. And it put me in such a happy place. My mind went back to St. Petersburg when Victor and I got our first apartment together. This was even before we got the boys. We were just about to go out for the night and I had yet to get the bathroom, so while Victor was in the shower, I had to see through the steam on the bathroom mirror. Nearly impossible, but somehow, I managed. Happy times.

When I got out, I braced myself for the shitstorm that was about to ensue. Celestino might as well have a noose ready for me. Maybe he could borrow one of the racks from the club last night. Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me. Please don't kill me. I walked out into the living room and saw him sitting at the bar in the kitchen. He was yelling at someone on the phone in Italian and I wasn't quite sure what he was saying. All I knew was that it wasn't good.

"Ascoltami, figlio di puttana," he snapped, "Lei sta bene! Dì altre bugie sulla mia bambina e ti finirò! Ci capiamo?"

"Violet…?" Victor kept his voice down, "Care to translate?"

"I don't know," I tried to figure that out myself, "Any idea who he's talking to?"

"Some reporter…"

"Coach," I took his phone from him and took over the call, "Hello?"

"Who is this?" the reporter's voice shook.

"Who is this?" I asked.

"My name is Doyle Wallace," he quivered, "I'm with Skate Weekly Magazine. I just wanted to know what Celestino Cialdini's thoughts were on Violet Plisetsky's downward spiral."

"Excuse me?" I started to understand more of what Celestino was saying. He was doing crowd control and cleaning up the sloppy mess drunk Violet left behind.

"She was seen coming out of a BDSM club last night," Doyle Wallace with Skate Weekly Magazine reported, "She was drunk out of her mind, being carried over Victor Nikiforov's shoulder with Christophe Giacometti following them. I'm asking about her downward spiral just as she makes what's supposed to be her big comeback to the figure skating world."

"This is something you can go on record with," I did my best to not yell at the guy, "Violet Plisetsky is not having a breakdown, Doyle Wallace with Skate Weekly Magazine. Her comeback is going to be huge and completely unexpected and nothing like her old stuff. And she's perfectly fine."

Click.

"Do you see what I've been doing?" Celestino immediately jumped down my throat, "I've been doing damage control since seven o'clock this morning! I had to turn my phone off while I was taking care of your boys! Voglio chiamarti ogni nome nel libro ora! Ti ho detto che mi darai un infarto un giorno! Vedi cosa hai fatto?"

"Celestino," I tried to get him to settle down, "You're speaking in tongues."

"I shouldn't have to do damage control for you like this, Violet," he scolded. But then, in the same breath, he began to come down from his anger, "What's going on with you?"

"Everyone's asking me that way too much lately," I rolled my eyes, regretting the decision as a pain shot through my head, "I'm fine."

"Violet," Victor stepped in, "Are you sure about that? Because ever since the divorce, you've been…off."

"I'm sure it's just stress," I assumed, jumping up on the counter, shoving a very hot pirozhki in my mouth, "OW! Shit…"

"Violet!" Celestino always hated when I cursed like a sailor.

"Sorry, Coach," I brushed him off.

"Until further notice," he decided behind my back, "I'm going to take over coaching Yurio. And I don't want to hear any arguments from you. Victor's already given his approval." 

"What?" I started getting angry again, "What the hell, Victor?"

"It's too much for you, Violet," Victor backed Celestino, "I think this is going to be good for both of you. Yurio has his program to worry about. You have your program to worry about. There's nothing wrong with getting a little bit of help with that."

"Yurio!" Celestino called out, "Come on!"

"Where are you going now?" I got defensive.

"Dance lesson," he said, "Always nice to see the Madame."

"Mama!" Yurio ran to me without even thinking and jumped into my arms, "Are you feeling better?"

"All kinds of better," I kissed his cheek, snuggling him tight to my chest, "Thanks, baby."

"Come on, Yurio," Celestino took him away from me, "Let's go see the Madame."

"But what about Mama?" Looks like someone hasn't been told the good news yet.

"She's still a little sick," Celestino lied to him, "I got you. Let's go."

Yurio looked up at me, then back to Celestino, "Do I still get coffee?"

"Since when do you drink coffee?" Victor gave him a look, "I thought you said it was just beans and water."

"Mama showed me what lattes were," Yurio bit his lip, "And they're so good."

"That's my boy," I smiled a bit.

"We'll see," Celestino pacified him, getting him out the door, "You know how Sharmay will get if you're late."

"Madame," Yurio corrected him, getting out of his grasp and running back to me, "I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too, dovahkiin," I sent him off, keeping him in the dark about everything else. He doesn't need to know what's going on. And just like that, Celestino took Yurio to see the Madame, leaving me behind.

"Violet," Victor joined me on the counter, "Can I ask you something?"

"What?" I had a feeling this wasn't going to end good.

"Have you ever thought…" he cut himself off, "Never mind."

"Have I ever thought what?" I laid my head on his shoulder.

"Have you ever thought about seeing someone?" Victor draped his arm around me.

"That's what last night was for," I jabbed, "And someone wants to play the bongos from Africa on my ass."

"That's not what I mean," he clarified, "I'm talking about professionally."

That was a red flag. That was a big red flag. I glared through Victor's soul, "A professional what?"

"You know what."

"No," I growled, "I don't. A professional what, Victor?"

"Violet…"

"Are you saying I'm going crazy here?" I snapped, "I'm in the prime of my life and I'm not allowed to do a little exploring now?"

"That's not what I mean," Victor jumped down from the counter, chasing after me, "Just…"

"No," I made a beeline for the door, "We're not having this talk today, Victor. I'll be upstairs if you need me."

"Violet, wait!" he stopped me in the middle of the hall, giving me what looked like a business card. How long was he planning on springing this on me? "I have a number of a doctor I want you to call. Please?"

"Ok, whatever," I took the card and shoved it in my pants pocket. Odds are, it's going to stay there. I didn't need to see a damn shrink. I'm perfectly fine. The fact that Victor even suggested something like that was bullshit. Why did everyone else not see it? I'm fine. I'm not having any sort of a psychotic break. I'm not going off the handle. I'm fine.

 **A/N: Hi, friends! I know this is going up kind of late, but it's been a very long day for me. I'm not going to go into details, but perhaps I'll tell you next week. BUT! First, a translation of Celestino's rant and him yelling at the reporter:**

 ** _"Listen to me, you son of a bitch. She's fine! Tell more lies about my little girl and I'll finish you! We understand each other?_**

 **Then, there's him yelling at Violet:**

 ** _"I want to call you every name in the book right now! I told you that you'll give me a heart attack one day! See what you did?"_**

 **Celestino cares. He really does. And so does Victor. They're the dads raising Violet on their own. Chris is the bad influence uncle. Yuri and Yurio are the poor babies caught in the middle. And Violet's the angry, angsty teenager that's sick of her overly doting dads. So, how else is she going to rebel? Well, she's already had the slight sexual awakening, courtesy of Mike from the BDSM club wanting to play the bongos from Africa. We'll see, won't we?**

 **Now, a completely different matter, I'm toying around with the idea of starting a YouTube channel to keep my ramblings out of down here. I'm not quite sure what I'd be doing, but it's been something I've been wanting to do for a while now. If I were to do that, would you watch it? Just out of curiosity. Some food for thought. See you next chapter! xx**


	8. Bite Your Tongue

Victor had no right giving me the number for a shrink. That was still bullshit on his part. Despite how slightly pissed off I was at him, I'm going to keep it together for the kids. I can always bitch at him later. Although...he was only worried about me. There's nothing to worry about, but it's still nice to know that he cares enough.

If yesterday wasn't a perfect enough example of that. I didn't ask him to take care of my hungover ass, but he did. I didn't ask him to come get me last night, but he did. I definitely didn't ask for that business card, but he gave it to me anyway. That card was probably for when Victor couldn't take care of me anymore. Or for when he stops caring and wants to pawn the job off on someone else. No...He wouldn't do that...Right?

Regardless, after a good night's sleep, I felt good enough to go back to practice. Besides, I'm behind a day. I need to get that back. If I can land my quads again, I'll be happy. A successful practice. Even if it's just one quad I get, I can make up with a dreaded double toe loop. I slammed an energy drink and headed straight for the rink. I hope Celestino's there already.

I don't know why he wouldn't be. Right now was Yurio's practice slot. And since Victor decided all on his own that I was currently unfit to coach our son, Celestino was filling that slot. I had to admit, though. If I was going to pick another coach for Yurio other than Victor or me, Celestino would be my first choice. He was good enough for me when my career started. I don't see why he wouldn't do the same for Yurio.

Sure enough, there they were. Yurio's program shortlist played through the speakers and he did a few spins in the center of the rink. Really, Coach? You got him running spins? Your strength lies in your jumps, Yurio. You know that as well as I do. I won't fault you for rebelling against your coach a little bit. Even if you get hurt, you'll be able to heal up and get back to practice before competition.

"Alright, Yurio," Celestino killed the music, "I think you've done enough for today. We can get your dance lesson in this afternoon. Tomorrow, we'll talk about choreographing your program for the season."

"Fine," Yurio looked so...bored. So uninspired. Until he caught sight of his inspiration, "Mama!"

"Hey, baby," I held my arms out and Yurio practically tackled me, "You were great out there. What I saw anyway."

"Can I show you something?" he begged, "I want to show you how good I've gotten."

"Alright, Yuri," I allowed, "Go on. Make Mama proud."

"I will!" Yurio ran back to the rink and started doing laps. What was this kid planning?

"Yurio, no!" Apparently, Celestino knew. And wasn't having it, "We talked about that! You're not ready yet!"

He wasn't stopping. Yurio kept getting his speed up. That's my boy. Push yourself. How do you know if you can't do it if you don't try it first? As Celestino nursed his possible aneurysm by cursing under his breath in Italian (oh, the memories), Yurio had enough speed to do his jump. My baby floated in midair, managing to get in four rotations. Then, with the greatest of ease, Yurio stuck his landing beautifully. Celestino's coloring started to come back and his vice grip on my hand released.

"I did it!" Yurio let out a victorious squeak, "A quad toe loop! Just like Victor's only better because I did it! Did you see it, Mama?"

"I sure did!" I took my son into my arms, "That's my boy!"

"Yurio!" Celestino scolded, "What did I tell you? You've already fallen four times trying to do that toe loop. If you would've fallen again, you could've gotten seriously hurt!"

"But I didn't," Yurio pointed out, not letting his new coach take this moment away from him, "So, I don't see what the problem is."

"You're just like your mama," he let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "You're both stubborn to a fault, aren't you?"

"I wouldn't say to a fault," I laid my head on his shoulder, "A little stubborn, maybe. He's got a point, though, Coach. Yuri nailed that toe loop. His landing was so clean I could eat off it. I say we take the win."

"What about next time?" Celestino argued, "What if he tries it again and takes a harder fall? Those big jumps could end his career."

"Those big jumps could make his career, too!" I gave my rebuttal.

"Last I checked, you're not his coach anymore, Violet," he threw that in my face, "And as his coach, I say what jumps he can and can't do!"

If that wasn't a sucker punch to the face. He was right. I might not have been his coach right now, but I was still his mama. I had every right to tell Yurio what he could do on the ice. Stow your anger, Violet. Give Celestino that middle finger on the ice. Although, going by the look in his eye, it won't be necessary.

"That was deep, Celestino," Yurio stepped in, "You're not my coach forever. Don't let this go to your head. Mama is always my coach."

I knew I loved him for a reason. My baby wrapped himself around my waist, offering what little comfort he could. Yurio's intuition was stronger than I gave him credit for, "I love you, too, Yuri."

"Violet," Celestino tucked his tail between his legs, "I...You know I didn't..."

"Don't worry about it," I brushed him off, not fully accepting his apology, "Yuri, is Victor or Uncle Chris coming to get you or is Celestino supposed to be bringing you back home?"

"Celestino's supposed to bring me back home," Yurio looked up at me with sparkles in his eyes, "Or you could."

"I just got here, sweetheart," I kissed the top of his head, "I have practice, too."

"I know," he pouted, "But maybe instead of going back to Victor and Uncle Chris, I could go to your place."

"You got a key," I reminded him, "Go ahead. Let yourself in. There's not much there but Nadya. I need to go grocery shopping after practice. And you need to rest up before the Madame has you. I made the mistake of yawning once in the middle of a lesson once and I thought she was going to beat me with a wooden paddle."

"But your bed is bigger than mine," Yurio whined, "And a lot more comfortable."

"Yuri," I groaned, "It's not going to be the end of the world. Besides, I'm going to see you tonight, right? Coach? How's he been doing?"

"Better than last season," Celestino reported, "I see gold in his future this year."

"Hell yeah, you do!" I wouldn't be shocked if he's at the Junior Grand Prix again. Between Celestino and me? We better call the engravers now, "So? How about it, Dovahkiin? You, me, and some late nights?"

"Definitely!" Yurio's face lit up. I made him a promise and I'll be damned if I go back on it.

"Then, go back home with Celestino," I demanded, "Anything specific you want while I'm at the store snack wise?"

"Those shrimp chips Yuri had in Japan."

"I don't think I'll be able to get those," I bit my tongue, "Those are probably one of those things I have to order on Amazon. Next time, ok?"

"I want the shrimp chips!" Yurio squealed, "Are we going back to Japan for competition this year?"

"I don't know," I wondered, "Coach? You got the schedule for this year yet?"

"I don't think they've even thought about what the host cities are going to be this year," Celestino shrugged, "Odds are, we'll probably be back in Japan sometime."

"We get shrimp chips then," Yurio kicked off his skates and grabbed his bag. I hope the international section at the grocery store is good to me.

"Go on, kid," I sent him off, "I'll see you tonight."

"I love you, Mama," Yurio snuck a kiss on my cheek.

"I love you, too," I hugged him tight, "Send your brother my love, too."

"Mama…"

"Yurio," I gave him the mom voice. He couldn't say no, "Like it or not, blood or no blood, that's your older brother and I love him just as much as I love you."

"I know better," Yurio smirked, "You love me a little more, don't you?"

"Don't tell Yuri," I shot him a quick wink, "Go."

That kid was going to have a permanent smile on his face until he got home. Maybe even a little longer than that. Either way, Yurio and Celestino left me to my devices. I had the whole rink to myself. Something about skating in solitude was very soothing for me. Whether I could sleep at night or not, this was my place of zen. While he's gone, I should choreograph my entire program. Would I go behind my coach's back like that? He went behind mine when he decided to coach my son. Why not?

After seeing Yurio's quadruple toe loop, it made me want to do that. Thanks, kid. If I fall and get hurt and I can't skate anymore, it's mostly your fault. No. You know you can land your quads, Violet. The hard stuff is easy. The easy stuff is hard. You're skating in a topsy-turvy world now. I got my speed up and killed all of my jumps. To no surprise, of course. I'm a hell of a skater. I always have been. I don't know why I'm so freaked out over practices. I have plenty of time to get back to fighting shape. I might as well be now.

Celestino came back and drilled me for the next hour. Granted, I didn't have anything better to do, but this was all so tedious. My spins were air tight, my jumps were perfect, and my footwork rivaled Victor's. I didn't need practice. My muscles were there and everything was back. Victor was right. Once I got that damn double toe loop down, everything else fell into place. I had this. The Grand Prix Final was mine this year and no one dares take it away from me.

After practice, I still needed to go to the grocery store. I didn't have shit at my place for food that wasn't in takeout containers. But I wasn't going to want to cook. Cooking in my small kitchen was my own private hell. The price we pay for living in New York. Odds of us having a big kitchen like we did in Russia were next to none. Lucky for me, though, there was a damn fine Chinese place up the street and the kid that did their deliveries was sweet. His name was Matthew and he was cute as a button.

Although that had dinner covered, we still needed snacks. Come on, international section. Don't fail me. Have Yurio's Japanese shrimp chips. Please have Yurio's shrimp chips or he'll have my head. At least until I hit up Amazon. Dammit…No shrimp chips. They did have instant ramen, though! And sometimes, instant ramen hits the spot. I don't understand why, but it just works. Instead of his shrimp chips, I threw in an assortment of shit food that was no good for either of us, but the diet restrictions our coach has us on be damned. We can treat ourselves.

When I got to the check-out line, I saw an issue of Skate Weekly Magazine on the rack and threw up in my mouth a little. Still went through with the article on my downward spiral, huh, Doyle Wallace with Skate Weekly Magazine? A picture of me being carried on Victor's shoulder was splashed on the cover. Gross. Let's pay more attention to trader papers and National Enquirer and the fact that the mayor's dog just had puppies, shall we? I did a quick switch around of the magazines to cover up Doyle Wallace with Skate Weekly Magazine's abomination.

"Excuse me," the cashier gasped, "Isn't that you?"

"Hmm?" I perked up.

"On the magazine," he pointed, "Are you Violet Plisetsky?"

"Prosti," I apologized, putting on a thick, Russian accent. After hearing it out of Victor's mouth for years, I've learned to perfect it, "No. It's amazing. I get that all the time. I couldn't imagine being on magazine cover. Let alone being such good figure skater like she is."

"You follow?" he wondered, taking an eternity to scan my items.

"Figure skating?" I assumed, "All my life. Coming from St. Petersburg, if you don't know who Victor Nikiforov is, you were living under rock."

"He's a god, isn't he?" the cashier gave me that fake 'I work in retail' smile and finished bagging my groceries.

"You have nice day," I took my bags and got the hell out of there. Just what I wanted to deal with was an overly enthusiastic Victor fanboy. But now, all of my thoughts for the rest of the day are going to be in a Russian accent. Thanks, guy behind the counter. All I needed to do now was get home, kick my feet up, and possibly take a nap.

But because Violet isn't allowed nice things, I got jumped by camera flashes and reporters shoving recording devices in my face. If I ever have the displeasure of meeting Doyle Wallace from Skate Weekly Magazine, I'm personally taking him into an alley and kicking the ever-living shit out of him. I'm going to curb stomp his face into the ground. There will be an impression in the cement. For now, though, I needed to make a phone call…after I get the reporters out of my face.

"Hi, Violet," Celestino answered, "This is a surprise. To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I need some help," I sighed out, seeking refuge in that alley that would one day have Doyle Wallace from Skate Weekly Magazine's blood in it, "I'm getting a barrage of reporters and I'm not having it. You think you could hook a sister up?"

"I can get you some bodyguards," he promised, "I'll start looking now. Are you ok?"

"A little traumatized," I shrugged, "But I think I'll be ok. Thank you, Celestino."

"You're welcome, bambina," Celestino sang out, "Where are you right now?"

"The alley behind the grocery store."

"Go straight home," he demanded, "No detours. No going to another store. Go straight home. Those reporters are going to be ruthless and you don't deserve that. Go home."

"Don't have to tell me twice."

 **A/N: I'm so sorry this is up so late. It's been…Hell of a day. A little roller coaster-y and there's only more to come. But all that aside, next week, we'll have Violet and Yurio going on a game binge. We may or may not meet her bodyguards. I'm proud of her for not throwing punches. Also, that whole, Violet speaking in a Russian accent to the cashier at the grocery store? And how her internal monologue is going to be in a Russian accent for the rest of the day? It happens. That's a thing. Because that's every time I update this. I always end up with a Russian accent in my head. And I really think that Celestino sending her bodyguards is his way of apologizing for his dick move at the rink. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to go to bed. See you next chapter! xx**


	9. Mama's Promise

**A/N: Hi, friends! Especially to the new guest friend! I just hope you went through Adopted to get to where we are now. And I love love love you! So, should we get back to what we love love love and let my floof lump sleep by my door…I just turned around and Mika's clocked out on her spot on my rug. I love her. And I love all of you. And I love that we're here. And you love me for loving you and I love you for loving me. And we love each other. And that's because none of us got enough love in our childhoods. And that's showbiz…Kid…**

 **Um…Ms. Olivier…You're quoting Chicago out of nowhere again, ma'am.**

 **Shut up, hypothetical assistant. I'm done. You read. I'll shut up. K, bye.**

How was it that I could lazily skate around for hours and hammer out a high energy routine with no problem, but after running half a block, I'm exhausted? I didn't think I was that out of shape. Maybe I should consider joining a gym. A twenty-four hour one, so I won't have the grocery store incident again. Doyle Wallace from Skate Weekly Magazine, may the heat of a thousand roaring fires and a million suns burn simultaneously the next time you piss. Because this is all your fault.

After I managed to shake my barrage of paparazzi, I jumped in a cab and headed home. You did say your comeback would be huge, Violet. I never expected to be painted as a trainwreck, though. I'm just having a little fun. Is that such a crime? For the first time in a very long time, I'm free to come and go as I please without a husband and kids to worry about. That being said, if I want to go to a sex club and get wasted out of my mind, I can and I will. It's not me going through a mental breakdown. It's just good, old-fashioned fun.

Although, I had some other kind of fun in mind for tonight. Ever since we made the move from St. Petersburg and got back to the grind, I feel like I hardly see my boys anymore. I know Yuri is always fawned over and doted on. Victor never hesitates and Yurio growls at Chris any time he gets too close. That's mostly why I told him to come over. Yurio and I were a lot alike in that respect.

Even though I knew Victor loved me, he loved someone else more. Our marriage was how he could have his cake and eat it, too. I just didn't realize how that was going to affect me. In a way, Yuri was Yurio's version of Chris. But that's what he had me for. And tonight would be proof of that fact never changing. Speak of the devil, just as a finished putting the groceries away, a knock ticked at the door.

"Hi, bab…" I opened the door to find a large man on the other side towering over me, "You are not who I thought you were? Can I help you? And may I ask what you're doing here?"

"Are you Violet Plisetsky?" his voice thundered, matching the rest of him.

"Maybe…" I quivered.

"It's alright," he assured, smiling a sheepish little grin, "Celestino sent me. My name is Gene. I'll be your bodyguard. He tells me you had some reporters on you."

"Yeah," I relaxed. Damn, Celestino. You work quick, "Couldn't go to the grocery store without getting swarmed. At least I don't remember Cosmos. Come in. Make yourself comfortable."

"Thanks," Gene followed me in, taking a seat on my couch, "So, Ms. Plisetsky…"

"Violet, please," I cringed, "Just Violet."

"Violet," he corrected himself, "Where are we going tonight? The bars? The clubs? Rooftop party downtown?"

"Actually," I admitted, "I'm staying in tonight. My coach is already pissed at me. I should probably behave myself for a while. Besides, my son should be here any minute now."

"You have a kid?" Gene gasped, "How?"

"I adopted him with my ex-husband when he was four," I explained, doing a turn in front of him, "Look at this body. Does it look like it's ever been through that?"

"Not necessarily," he clarified, "My wife and I have three kids and she still has a spectacular body."

"Good for her," I praised, "Do you want anything while I'm up?"

"No, thank you," Gene shot me down, "In all technicality, I'm not even supposed to be further than your door. At least that's what Celestino said."

"What all did Celestino say?" I wondered.

"That you were kind of in a delicate place right now," he told me, "And you needed a little extra protection. Because the media are, as he put it, stronzi."

"They are stronzi," I agreed, "But did he really say I was delicate?"

"Not you in particular," Gene tried to cover for Celestino, "Just the way that everything is for you right now."

"Because I'm a little stronger than he gives me credit for," I rolled my eyes, "I hate that Celestino has me on such a high pedestal. They all do! Celestino, Victor…What did I ever do to make them think so highly of me?"

"I'm just your bodyguard, sweetheart," he pointed out, "Maybe this is something you should talk about with your therapist."

"I DON'T NEED ONE!" I snapped. Water. I needed some water. Anything to make me calm down, "Look, I'm sorry to yell. I'm a little bitchy these days."

"I'm sorry," Gene apologized, "I didn't realize how sensitive of a subject something like that was with you. After hearing what Celestino told me, I figured you'd have one."

"No," I shook my head, downing the rest of a half full bottle of water, "I got a number for one the other day, but I doubt I'll use it. I got a different kind of therapist. His name is Dr. Goose."

"Dr. Goose?" he gave me a look as I stood on my toes, reaching up for my favorite therapist.

"Dr. Grey Goose," I showed him the big bottle of vodka I kept on hand, "And for the nights that get really bad, I have a bottle I still have straight from Russia. A local brewer in St. Petersburg gave it to me as a housewarming present and I've never opened it. He gave me a couple shots of it before I left his brewery and I had to call my ex-husband to pick me up. It's some pretty strong shit."

"I'm more of a rum guy myself," Gene shrugged.

"To each their own."

Knock, knock.

"I got it," he kept me in the kitchen.

"Whoever it is," I begged, "Please be nice. Like I said, I'm expecting my son tonight and he's excitable. And scrappy."

"What's his name?" Gene got up from the couch.

"Yurio."

"Got it!" he cracked the door open, "Who are you?"

"Uh…" Yep. Baby's here, "Who are you?"

"You got any cameras on you?" Gene gave him the rundown, "Any weapons? Drugs?"

"Uh…" Yurio got nervous, "Mama?"

"He's fine, Gene," I giggled, "Don't scare him."

"I wasn't scared!" Yurio put on a brave face, "Kto etot paren' (Who's this guy)?"

Yeah. He's not scared. Yurio only slips back to Russian when he's either trying to get away with something or he's nervous around new people, "Rasslab'sya, detka (Relax, baby). He's ok. This is Gene. He's my new bodyguard."

"Zachem nam nuzhen telokhranitel (Why do we need a bodyguard)?" he wondered, still not sure what to make of him.

"Potomu kak (Because)," I settled him, "Celestino bespokoitsya obo mne (Celestino worries about me)."

"I'm sorry," Gene stepped in, "But I don't speak Russian."

"It's alright, Yuri," I promised, "I got swarmed by some aggressive reporters at the grocery store, so Celestino gave me a bodyguard. From what I've seen, though, Gene's a sweetheart."

"Aww," Gene melted, "Violet! Flattered."

Still mistrusting, Yurio switched glances between Gene and me, "Is he going to be here long?"

Alright. He's speaking English again, "Not very long. He'll do anything I tell him to, won't you, Gene?"

"Not anything," Gene corrected me, "Anything that doesn't involve bananas. Made that mistake once."

"Should I ask?" I covered Yurio's ears, "What happened with the banana? College incident?"

"No," he explained, "Nothing like that. I accidentally ate one when I was a kid and found out I was allergic. Throat swelled up. Went to the hospital. Emergency removal of my tonsils. Fun times."

"Yikes," I cringed, moving my hands from his ears to his shoulders.

"What was that all about?" Yurio looked up at me.

"I'll tell you when you're older," I kissed the top of his head, "Hey, Gene, I hate to treat you like a PA, but could you do me a huge favor?"

"Sure, Violet," Gene agreed, "What do you need?"

"I ordered dinner a little while ago from the Chinese place on the corner," I filled him in, "Can you go get it for me?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "That's no problem."

"Thank you," I got some money out of my purse for him, "Really, Gene. I appreciate it."

"Oh, hush," Gene stopped me, "What else am I getting paid for?"

"To keep me free from harm."

"I think you'll be ok," he figured, "At least until I get back, right?"

"Probably," I giggled. This is the beginning of a very beautiful friendship.

"I won't be gone long!" And just like that, Gene took off and left Yurio and me to our devices.

"Mama," Yurio asked, "Is he going to be around the whole weekend?"

"I don't think so," I grabbed him a juice box out of the fridge, "But you will, right?"

"Absolutely!" he perked back up, "What are we playing?"

"Well," I thought it over, "I was thinking about some of the classics, since you proved to be so good at Space Invaders in Tokyo last year."

"I would've gotten a high score, too," Yurio pouted, "But you killed my last life."

"No, I didn't," I jabbed, "But then, I thought of some of my older favorites that came out before you were born, but not too far before you were born. When the golden age of 3D games came to play. And I do have quite the assortment of them, too. But even better, why not show you how you got your name?"

"Yurio?"

"No, sweetheart," I wrapped my arms around him, "What do I call you? What's the one name that gets you more fired up than anything?"

"Dovahkiin!"

"So," I sat him down on the couch and got my PlayStation set up, "How about a little Skyrim? Some beautiful open world for us to run around in. Sound like a plan?"

"Yes please!" Yurio had the biggest grin on his face. I've never seen him more ready outside of a competition.

"Alright then," I gave him the controller, "You start setting your character up, ok?"

"Ok," he scrolled through the menus for a minute or two, "Hey, Mama?"

"Yeah, baby?" I got up to get something for Mama to drink. One would think I would've gotten something while I got Yurio's juice box, but dumbass me forgot.

"Why is Celestino so angry these days?" Yurio wondered, "When we were at practice this morning, he was a lot harder on me than he usually was."

"That's probably because of me," I didn't think I was going to have that talk with my son today, but out of the mouths of babes, I guess, "Look, Yuri, Celestino's had to do a lot of crowd control because Mama made a few bad decisions with Uncle Chris and now, he's got to clean up the mess. Naturally, he's not going to be too happy with me and by the sounds of it, he's taking it out on you. Just don't worry about it, ok?"

"Alright," he curled into my hip as soon as I sat down. This was what I was looking for. This was what I needed.

"By the way," I smiled down at him, "This is one of those games that are very binge worthy. Chances are, we won't be getting up for a while."

"How long can I stay up, Mama?"

"As long as we want to."

"Awesome!" Yurio squeaked, "Victor and Uncle Chris never let me stay up anymore. They say it's bad for me."

"But we're not going to practice this weekend," I assured, "Unless you want to kill some time at the rink tomorrow."

"I'll think about it."

And thus began our night. I promised this kid a game binge and what better than a little bit of Skyrim? Granted, it's not exactly appropriate for someone his age to be playing, but I'm still here. I think he'll be able to handle it. It's not video games making kids violent. People that say that are dumb. Once Gene brought dinner, he left Yurio and me to play Skyrim until the wee hours of the morning.

At least that's what the plan was. Until the little lightweight clocked out at 10:30. Bless him. What an amateur. Yurio had all intentions of staying up past midnight and I caught him snoozing at 10:30. It's ok, baby. There's always tomorrow. You did make some damn fine progress, though. I'll give you that. Color me impressed. I scooped the little angel up in my arms and tucked him into bed. Sleep didn't sound like a half bad idea. One last look at my phone…

 _Everything ok?_

 _-VN_

Oh, Victor. You do worry about him.

 _Just tucked Yurio into bed. About to turn in for the night._

 _-VP_

Beep!

 _Good night, Violet._

 _Love you. xox_

 _-VN_

 _Love you, too. x_

 _-VP_

Even though sometimes you stick your nose where it doesn't belong, but I know why you do it.

 **A/N: And so, Violet tucks little Yurio into bed, gets her goodnight kisses from Victor, and goes sleepy by. Hey! I just noticed something! In real time, it's Yurio's birthday tomorrow! Look at my little boy growing up. I remember when he was just a smol, angry, Russian kitten. Now, he's just an angry, Russian kitten. Happy early birthday, Yurio. Mama loves you. Just like I love all of you. I'm not sure if I'm going to do what I did last year and write something for my bb's birthday. Tomorrow's going to be a bit of a day for me. I might. I might not. Don't hold your breath. See you next chapter! xx**


	10. Morning on Ice

Oh, sleeping in…How I've missed you. That's one of those shitty things that comes along with preseason. Don't get me wrong. I love skating, but getting up so early to practice was my own private Hell. And I know I wasn't the only one in my condo that thought mornings should be abolished altogether. If Yurio had his way, all of his practices would be at night, too.

Damn…That kid clocked out around 10:30 last night and he's still sleeping? It's almost ten o'clock now. You deserve it, though, baby. Celestino's probably working you to the bone at practice and you haven't had time for your midday nap. Looks like it's just going to be Nadya and me making breakfast then. Not that I'm complaining. As long as she kept out of the flour, we'd be fine.

"Morning, Violet," Gene sat at my kitchen table with today's Wall Street Journal and a cup of coffee, blissfully unaware that he just scared the shit out of me.

"Good morning…?" I gave him a look after I came down, "Uh, Gene…? How in the hell did you get in my condo? And how long have you been in my kitchen?"

"Celestino gave me a key," he showed me the ring on a little purple star keychain, "And since eight o'clock. The start of my shift."

"New rule," I decreed, "No coming here until at least nine on days I don't have practice. And text me first, so I don't have a heart attack first thing in the morning."

"Sorry," Gene put his paper down, "Do you want me to go?"

"You're already here," I allowed, "I don't care if you stay."

"Yay!" he went back to his stocks and his black coffee, "Did you need anything?"

"No thanks," I got some coffee of my own, "I'm good."

"Alright," Gene turned the page, "So, how'd it go last night with you and your little guy?"

"He hardly made it past ten," I awed, getting some mixing bowls out of my upper cabinets, "We played Skyrim for three hours and he fell asleep on me. He's still sleeping, though, so we should keep it down."

"Yeah," he nodded, "No problem. You know, Vi, feel free to laugh at my ignorance, but what the hell are you making?"

"Breakfast," I already had flour and eggs on the counter, "When I was in Japan last year with my boys and my Victor…"

"Your Victor?"

"My ex-husband," I clarified, "But when we were in Japan, Yurio thought the crepes in Harajuku were the coolest thing, so we went for crepes before competition. They quickly became one of his favorite foods, so I thought I'd make my baby some nice-looking Harajuku style crepes."

"You know how to do that?" Gene wondered.

"Yep!"

"Where'd you learn to cook?" he teased, "You kind of strike me as the type that the only thing you're good at making is reservations."

"I had a few good teachers," I admitted, putting my biggest frying pan on the stove, "I used to be the type to only make reservations, but uh…"

I started to get a little uncomfortable. Not full blown triggered, but just a little uncomfortable. Learning how to cook was a strange form of therapy for me for so long. A lot of things came flooding back into my memory. Between my hospital stay and the wicked nightmare that still haunted me from Tokyo about how Yurio could've easily fallen into that path, I couldn't help but go completely blank for a minute or two.

"Violet?" Gene snapped me out of whatever haze that put me in, "You ok? I lost you there for a sec."

"Sorry," I came to again, "I learned to cook out of necessity. When I first started skating, I was struggling with an eating disorder, so to help with that, Victor taught me a lot. Celestino's mom wouldn't let me leave her kitchen for a while. And now, I can make a lot of Russian food better than Victor can. Saying the same for Mama Cialdini, though, is sacrilegious. She'd find out somehow and get on the next flight to the states just to kick my ass personally."

"Sounds like a sweet lady," he giggled.

"She really is," I remembered Celestino's mom with a great fondness, "That was a post-season that I will never forget. If her not letting me leave her kitchen wasn't working, my inability to move would've worked wonders. Mama Cialdini's cooking is definitely a gift from God. That's for sure."

Then, the soft shuffling of little, tired feet came out into the living room and toward the kitchen, "Mama...?"

"Morning, Yuri," I headed straight for the fridge and got Yurio his usual morning poison of choice.

"No," he shook his head, "I don't want apple juice."

"Are you sure?" I worried, "Yuri, are you sick? You always have apple juice in the morning."

"Can I have coffee instead?" Yurio sat down at the kitchen table, still half asleep.

"Sure, baby," I wasn't turning him down. By the sounds of it, he was in desperate need of it. This is what happens when you oversleep, kid. It feels like a hangover, but a little more forgiving.

"You give your kid coffee?" Gene gave me a look, "Are you high?"

"When did he get here?" Yurio jumped, not expecting to hear Gene's voice so early.

"Eight o'clock," I settled him, putting a cup of coffee in front of him, "And yes, I give my nine-year-old coffee. I know he can handle himself on it. The cafe's our usual stop after practice on the way home. What kind of creamer do you want, Dovahkiin?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "The kind that doesn't make it completely taste like coffee."

"Any aversion to coconut?" I asked.

"What do you mean?"

"Here," I gave him my cup, "Take a drink of mine. Tell me what you think about it."

Yurio studied the new flavor in his mouth very carefully, "I want that."

"Almond Joy, it is," I made it just right for him and went back to cooking.

"What are you doing?" he looked over my shoulder.

"Making breakfast," I told him, "You know those crepes you liked so much in Japan?"

"Yeah."

"That's breakfast," I smiled, watching Yurio's face light up.

"Really?" Yurio squealed.

"That's right," I promised, "What kind do you want?"

"The good kind I had in Tokyo," he sat back down at the table.

"You're real specific, kid," Gene joked.

"I know what he wants," I shot my baby a quick wink. I've gotten creative with my cooking before. And after seeing the crepe cases in Harajuku, I knew what I could do. Usually, I'd be a little leery about giving Yurio ice cream with breakfast, but for aesthetic sake, why not? And it was only orange sherbet. He'll be fine, "Yuri, come here. You can pour batter, can't you?"

"Ok," Yurio got up from his chair and took the cup I had the batter in.

"Be careful, sweetheart," I warned him, "Don't burn yourself."

"I won't."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Gene putting two and two together in his head. And I didn't like where it was going. I just hope to God he knew when to keep his mouth shut. It's bad enough we've brought up my problems today. We didn't need to do that with Yurio, too. I didn't even know how sensitive he was about that. Before things could even get to that point, I broke the silence.

"So, Yuri," I gave him a little poke to the hip, "The world is our oyster. What do you want to do today?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "Maybe play some more Skyrim?"

"Are you sure about that?" I looked him over, "You didn't sound too enthusiastic about it."

"No," Yurio came clean, "Don't get me wrong. Last night was really fun. But I'm not really in the mood."

"Neither am I," I agreed with him, "Come on, Yuri. If you could do one thing in the whole world today, what would you want to do?"

"Actually, Mama..." he blushed a little, "I really want to skate with you again."

That caught me a bit off guard. Yet, all the same, it warmed me inside, "Really? You want to skate with me?"

"Please?" Yurio begged, "It's been forever since we got to skate together and when I ask Celestino about it, he always says no. Please, Mama? Please, please, please?"

"Alright," I giggled, shaking off what Celestino said. He and I were going to have to have a little talk very soon, "We can skate together for a while. But because we don't want to make Celestino mad..."

"Why not?"

"Because," I explained, "If Celestino isn't happy, no one's happy. That goes for both of us. If you think you work hard at practice now, when he's angry, it'll only be worse. And we don't want that, do we?"

"No," Yurio shook his head, damn near giving himself whiplash.

"So, we can't go to the home rink," I flipped the first crepe. That's going to Yurio. Baby needs his strength if we're going skating today.

"Then, where are we going?" he wondered, drawing a complete blank.

"We'll have to go to the Coney Island rink," I smiled, "Is that ok with you?"

"Can we play on Coney Island, too?" Yurio asked meekly.

"Of course," I started building his crepe while another one was on the stove, "Stay and man the stove, ok?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Gene?" I offered, "You want one while Yurio's cooking?"

"No," Gene declined, "I don't want to be an imposition."

"So, make you one anyway," I figured.

"Yes, please."

"You think Victor and Uncle Chris and Yuri want any?" I looked down at my sous chef.

"They don't deserve it," Yurio decided.

"Alright," I wasn't going to fight him. While he kept going with the stove, I got to decorating. If I'm making crepes for Yurio and he wanted them nicely decorated, I could only make one thing for him. I got the orange sherbet out of the freezer and took the ice cream scoop out of the holder on the counter. Precision was key now. In through your nose and out through your mouth, Violet. Let's do this.

I started with a line of sweetened cream cheese filling on the inside. I was going to let a little leak out from the back to make a tail, but I had other plans. Now, face. One perfectly rounded ice cream scoop of sherbet and a melon baller sized scoop cut in half for the little ears. Things were starting to take shape! For around the mouth, I used a spurt of whipped cream and did one on the back for the tail. Fortunately, I had some writing icing left from last Christmas, so I used the black to make some striping on the head and the face and some whiskers and a couple of eyes. There!

"Yuri," I relieved him of his stove duties, "Go sit down. Yours is all done."

"Mama!" Yurio caught a glimpse of it, "It's a little tiger!"

"Better than the ones in Harajuku?" I wondered.

"Definitely!" Score one for Violet being the best and most extra mom in the world right now.

"Wow, Violet," Gene awed over it just as much as Yurio did, "You have a hell of a talent here."

"Thank you," I beamed, taking pride in my work, "Any requests?"

"No," he shook his head, "I'm a simple creature. I take my crepes plain anyway."

"Ok," I fixed Gene's crepes up and started on my own. Gene might be a simple creature, but I wasn't. In a perfect world, I'd have some matcha ice cream in the freezer and have matcha crepes, but alas, I'd have to settle. A little bit of strawberry and a little bit of dark chocolate. Not nearly as elaborate as Yurio's, but it's a labor of love I'm willing to give.

Once breakfast was all said and done, Yurio and I got our skates and headed to Coney Island with Gene following behind us, making sure we weren't being followed or we won't be picked out of a crowd. I didn't need that and Yurio sure as hell didn't need that. When we got to the rink, it felt like coming home again. We haven't skated at the Coney Island rink since Yuri's birthday and the Lady Marmalade incident. And to make things even better, we had an empty rink.

"Alright, kid," I tied Yurio's skates for him, "Pick a song."

"I have one," Yurio got up and walked on his blade guards toward the sound booth, "I'll be right back."

"Ok," I put my own skates on and skated to the middle of the rink.

"I've never seen you skate before, Violet," Gene admitted, "You any good?"

"I've won international competitions, Gene," I pointed out, "I've got my medals hanging from my mantle. I'm professional."

"I don't follow figure skating!" he defended, "I'm sorry!"

"Don't worry about it," I brushed him off, "But yes. I'm very good at what I do."

"Ok, Mama," Yurio came out to me, "The song should start in a second."

A soft choir began, followed by a heavy beat and a light piano. I knew this song. I never expected Yurio to be the type to play Beyoncé, but I can't blame him. Even worse, I didn't think he'd play Halo on me. This was one of those songs that hit me way too hard. If I wasn't mentally prepared to hear it, tears were inevitable.

When Victor and I first started seeing each other, this was one of those songs we'd skate to all the time. He always saw me as an angel, even when I couldn't see it in myself. And at the time, I couldn't see it in myself. I was still dancing at the Red Room and escorting on the side. I only saw myself as a glorified prostitute, the furthest thing from pure. Despite all that, he promised me that he still loved me. That I wasn't the impure creature I saw in the mirror. But I was not just an angel. I was _his_ angel.

How could he see something like that? Especially then? If anything, he was mine. He took me away from the hell I lived day to day and brought me to the light. I wouldn't say I'm the overly religious type, but I did believe in guardian angels. And on that night, I had two of them. Even now, Victor's trying to be that for me yet again. However, we didn't have that kind of relationship anymore. I didn't need saving anymore. If that was the truth, why couldn't I stop crying?

"Mama?" Yurio skated over to me as I fell to my knees on the ice, "Are you ok?"

"Can I ask you something, Yuri?" I pulled myself together, "Why? Of all the songs you could've picked, why'd you pick that one?"

"Was it bad?" he worried, "Should I have picked something else?"

"No," I wiped my eyes, making sure he didn't see me crying, "It's not that. Answer me. Why'd you pick that song?"

"I don't know," Yurio freaked a little, curling into my lap, "It's been on my mind a lot lately. It's not my fault Victor's been playing it on a loop!"

"Alright, alright," I wrapped my arms around him, suppressing another wave of tears. Here he was, worrying about me. Victor needs to worry more about himself, by the sounds of it, "And it is a good song. I'll give you that."

"So," he looked up at me, "You're ok?"

"Of course I am," I kissed the top of his head, "Why don't we get one more routine in and we'll go to the café, ok?"

"Ok…"

Now, I couldn't help but worry…

Victor, are you ok?

 **A/N: I'm sorry. This made my heart hurt, too. Actually! Fun Lumi fact of the day: I don't know if I've told the story of Halo yet. But I'll tell you here. Halo has a very special place in my heart. Normally, I don't listen to a lot of Beyoncé (I know. That's borderline heresy on the internet), but one day, long time ago, around the time Halo came out, I was feeding my nephew his morning bottle. He was probably eight months old at the time. But mentally, I was in a really bad place that I didn't think I was going to come out of and Halo came on the TV. It hit me so hard in my heart and I started crying a little bit. My little baby nephew's hand, I shit you not, came up and wiped the tear off my cheek. That kid's going to be ten in June and I was telling him about it not too long ago. He thought it was the sweetest thing. So, I thought I'd throw in Halo for something special between Violet and Victor, too.**

 **Now, friends, we have a new friend to welcome into the fold. So…And don't tell them I sent you…If you want to go to Bigcatlover1's profile and follow and favorite and be super, super nice, that'd be really cool of you. Because they're a sweetheart and deserve some follows, too. Alright? Alright. If you'll excuse me, I have a really messy desk I need to clean up and a bulletin board to situate and a message to answer. I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	11. Trouble in Paradise

I remember when I first started skating with Chris and Victor. Coffee after I got a nasty ass bruise on my thigh always tasted better. Especially from this cafe in particular. I'm not sure why. Now, it's a tradition I'm proud to share with my son. Even when he says he'll never like coffee, but I show him the light. In this case, it came in the form of a dark roast I could taste the diabetes in. At least I was smart enough to get him decaf. The sugar alone was plenty to keep Yurio good and wired.

"Mama," Yurio stared into his cup, "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, baby," I allowed, "What's on your mind?"

"When we were skating at the Coney Island rink," he asked, "Why did you look so sad? And it's not just today. You've looked sad a lot lately."

"I'm not sad," I put on a smile, shutting that shit down immediately. The last thing I needed was Yurio running back to Victor, blaming him for this. Come on, Violet. Get the upper hand here, "How can I be sad? I got one of my favorite little boys in the whole wide world and I got my coffee. Where do I have room to be sad?"

"I guess you're right," Yurio perked up again, "My mistake."

Damn, that kid's a whole hell of a lot more perceptive than I give him credit for. Sometimes too perceptive for his own good. Either that or I'm slipping. No. Between my boys, Yurio's always been the more perceptive of the two. When it comes to his mama, it gets laser focused. I couldn't let him see me sweat. Or anyone for that matter. I've always been everyone else's rock and it's going to stay that way.

"Even if I was," I put Yurio at ease, taking that burden off his shoulders, "You don't need to worry about it. Besides, you make me very happy and I love you. That's all you need to know, ok?"

"Ok," he finished his latte, "Mama..."

"Yes, Yuri..."

"What's your theme going to be this season?" Yurio asked so innocently. Now was not the time to be giving him the talk. But I wasn't going to flat out lie to him. He just asked a question.

"Lust," I told him, "Chances are, you're going to see a new and improved version of my Lady Marmalade routine you saw on Yuri's birthday last year."

"Neat," he beamed, "But what does lust mean?"

"I'll tell you when you're older."

"Ok." Wow. That went easire than I thought.

"Ready to go home, Dovahkiin?" I grabbed my cup.

"Yeah," Yurio hopped down from his seat, "Am I still staying with you?"

"I'm not sure," I thought for a minute or two, "Talk to Victor. Maybe you can stay another night."

I don't see why he'd say no. It's not like he had far to go. A whole floor. No switching buildings. No crossing streets by himself. Yurio wouldn't even have to take a different elevator. It'd almost be petty of Victor to say no. And I knew if Yurio had his way, he'd more than likely be living with me full time anyway. What harm could one more little night of video games and sugar do? I'd love to do last night again. Early bedtime and all.

When we got back to the building, I had no intentions of staying at Chris and Victor's long. Just enough to let them know if I was keeping Yurio tonight. I know Victor's just going to ask me if I was ok and what the deal was with Gene. He freaked when he thought I had an actual date for this weekend. I can't imagine what he's going to say about me having a bodyguard.

"Victor?" I let us in, "Anyone home?"

"Hi, Violet!" Victor called from his office, "Hold on! I'll be out in a second!"

"Hey, Gene," I asked, "Could you do me a huge favor and wait outside?"

"Sure," he nodded, "It was cool hanging around with you, Yurio. I'll see you later."

"Bye, Gene," Yurio waved him off.

"And Vi," Gene stood in the doorway, "If you need me, just yell."

"I will." As Gene left the condo, Victor had come out of his office, "Hi, honey."

"Hey," Victor's face lit up, "Yurio! I missed you! Did you and Mama have a good time last night?"

"Better than what I would here," Yurio jumped into my arms, "I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too, Dovahkiin," I kissed the top of his head and he ran off to his room. But then, he ran right back out, "Hey, Victor."

"Dad," he tried to correct him, but we all know better, "What?"

"Can I stay with Mama again tonight?" Yurio begged, "Please?"

"No," Victor shook his head, "Celestino wants to work with you tomorrow morning. You're staying here."

"I can get Yurio to Celestino," I told him, "That's no problem."

"You sure?" he winced. What the hell? I'm more than capable of taking care of Yurio and he knows that.

"Of course," I was trying not to take it personally, but damn, that stung.

"We'll see," Victor sent him off, "Let me talk to Mama, ok?"

"Ok," Yurio ran back to his room again.

"Now," Victor wrapped his arms around me, already feeling guilty for saying no, "What about you?"

"What about me?" I snapped a little. No, Violet. Think about the baby.

"How are you, Violet?" his embrace tightened.

"I'm alright," I curled into him. I could never be mad at Victor for long. Even when he screwed up big, I couldn't hold a grudge against him longer than a day, "What about you? Are you doing ok?"

"I'm more concerned about you."

"Victor," I let out a heavy sigh, "Don't give me the passive aggressive bullshit. I know you better than that. You think you have my tells figured out? I know yours like the back of my hand and you're deflecting."

"It's not passive aggression." Bullshit, but do go on, "It's prioritizing. And I talk to Celestino regularly."

"You already know about Gene, don't you?" I figured.

"Yep."

"Wonderful," I bit the inside of my cheek, "Yeah. I got a bodyguard because of an ambush at the grocery store. No, we're not seeing each other, nor will that ever happen. He's married with three kids. He gets along with Yurio and Yurio doesn't seem to mind him anymore. More than likely, he'll scare the shit out of Yuri. Hell of a guy, though."

"That's what Celestino said," Victor jumped up on the counter, "Is he here?"

"He's outside."

"Violet!" Chris came out of Victor's office, not even thinking twice about showing his affections. I thought I saw the tag of Victor's shirt in the front. And it's shortly after two. Victor put Yuri down for a nap around 1:30 and that kid can sleep through the apocalypse. Nice, "Look at you! All in one piece and not puking."

"Hi, Chris," I beamed, never so happy to get out of uncomfortable conversation in my life.

"Although," he praised, "I must admit. For your first time on absinthe, you handled yourself well."

"Thank you," I bowed, taking pride in one of my not so prouder moments.

"Are you busy tonight?" Chris wondered, "I could stand another night like that. You're all healed up from that, right?"

"Absolutely!" I squeaked, "Unless Victor says I can get Yurio again tonight, I got nothing going on."

"I don't think so," Victor put his foot down, shoving his finger in his husband's chest, "I'm still mad at you for the last adventure you two went on. You don't need to repeat that. Besides, you, Christophe, still need to help me pack."

"That's right," I remembered, "You boys are taking off for Malta next week. Why are you packing now?"

"Because," he explained, "If we get it done now, I have time in case I need anything."

"Victor," I rolled my eyes, "You have more clothes than I do. I think you'll be fine."

"Isn't he adorable?" Chris awed, poking at his beloved's cheek, "So, the prospects of us going out tonight are nonexistent?"

"Yes," Victor confirmed, "You're staying in tonight. And Violet, Celestino said he wanted Yurio getting a full night's sleep. What time did he get to bed last night?"

"About ten o'clock," I reported, "The lightweight wanted to stay up longer, but he couldn't do it."

"Sorry, Vi," Chris apologized, "As much as I'd love to, I can't come out and play tonight."

"Don't worry about it," I brushed him off, "I'll probably just go home, too. Call it an early night."

"You sure?" he looked just as skeptical as Victor, "Not two seconds ago, you were ready to make this town yours. Now, you're going to stay in for the night?"

"Violet," Victor put the back of his hand to my forehead, "Do you feel ok? You look a little pale."

"I'm always pale," I pointed out, "My skin hasn't retained color since I was twelve. I'm fine. Maybe I'll go out. Maybe I'll be in my hot tub. It's not like I'm getting Yurio tonight, so more than likely, I'm going to be in the hot tub. If you two will excuse me, I'm going home."

"Ok," he hugged me tight, "Whatever you decide to do tonight, don't be stupid about it. I love you."

"Love you, too," I left my boys to their devices and headed upstairs with Gene to my condo. That hot tub idea sounded like a damn fine plan, but I wasn't in the mood. Although, a drink sounded like just the thing to lift my spirits. But here's a thought. Was I bad enough to crack open the housewarming vodka? No. Just the regular vodka would do.

"Hey, Vi," Gene sat down at my kitchen table with me while I poured.

"Yes, Gene?" Lemonade. Did I have any lemonade? I think I did. If not, a little lemon juice would do the trick. I always had that on hand.

"I know we haven't known each other long," he began, "So, feel free to hit me if I'm overstepping here, but that whole thing at the coffee shop today…"

"What about it?" I think it's a double kind of night.

"I know that if one of my kids asked me something like that," Gene shrugged, "I'd be pretty shaken. Especially my little girl. Did I ever tell you about my daughter?"

"No," I sat down, hoping it'd take the heat off me for a bit, "Tell me about her."

"She's my whole world," his eyes sparkled in a way I've never seen before, "Sophie. Named after my great-grandmother. She's amazing, that one. Don't get me wrong. I love my boys to death, but Sophie…Ever since she came along, she's had a vice grip on my heart. She's a little younger than Yurio, but she's a sweetie. When my wife's working late and I got the kids, the boys will be back in their room, playing video games, harassing people on the internet, usual things. Sophie's the only one with any activities. Taking her between her dance lessons and her karate lessons, she's a force. Yurio reminds me a lot of her. And seeing you two together reminds me of us. So, when he's wondering why Mama's upset, I heard it in Sophie's voice. If you ever need someone to talk to…Someone with an outside perspective…"

"Yeah," I knew where he was going with it. Everyone seems to be offering their laps to me lately, "Thanks, Gene."

Just when I had that whole conversation out of my head, he brings it back. Which makes me think…Right now, thinking was a very dangerous thing for me to do. Getting into my head was the easy part. Getting out? Now, that was a feat in itself. And the only way for me to keep from opening that door was to slam it shut with some Russian hospitality.

"Since you got nothing else going on tonight," Gene suggested, "Why don't you come to my place tonight? Sonia's making dinner, the kids are all home. That way, you don't have to be alone tonight."

"I can be alone tonight," I shot him down, "But thank you. I'll just order in, eat in the hot tub, have another drink or two, and go to bed."

"Ok," he grabbed his jacket off the back of the couch, "If that's it then, I'm going to head home, too. You need anything else?"

"No," I shook my head, "Go ahead."

"See you in the morning," Gene smiled a bit, "No earlier than nine, right?"

"You remembered!" I praised, "Atta boy, Gene. See you tomorrow."

Just me and my thoughts again. Yikes. More Grey Goose, says I. I made myself another drink and got in my hot tub. No bikini. Just my drink and my normal clothes. Did Yurio have a point? Maybe Mama was sad and didn't realize it. Maybe it's like the frog and the boiling water. When the frog is dropped in boiling water, he hops out because he knows it's hot. When he's put in cooler water and the heat gets turned up, the frog gets boiled alive. And I'm literally in boiling water. Wow, Violet. You really are a walking metaphor.

My direct sight line into the kitchen wasn't helping matters. Against my black fridge, a white rectangle stuck out like a sore thumb. That damn business card burned into my eyes. I get that you're worried about me, Victor, but you need to worry about you, too. I'm sure you're a little screwed up in your head, too. Maybe that's why he's got the card. Was he all depressed, too? Even worse, was it my fault?

Nope. Not doing this. Not today, Satan. I jumped out of my bathtub and made a beeline for my closet. I refuse to sit and wallow tonight. It's not like I'm getting Yurio, so I might as well do something about this weird ass funk I'm in. I looked through my clothes and found my brightest, whitest dress I could find. I didn't want to drink and feel numb tonight. I wanted something that was going to make me feel good. No…I needed something to make me feel good.

And look at that. I just sent my babysitter home. Dad and Dad are taking care of the little ones. Other Dad is in the wind. Because God only knows what Celestino does when I'm not around. I'm left unattended and a little drunk already. Goodbye, inhibitions. I hardly knew you. As soon as I looked like the purest little angel, I threw my ass in a cab and took off for the seedier underbelly of Brooklyn. A bright purple sign greeted me and the bouncer recognized me from last time. I must have been put on the list. I didn't even have to wait.

Deep bass hammered around me while I looked for one person in particular. It's his club. Shouldn't he be mingling somewhere? It's not like I knew where the offices were in this place. If there even were any. That'd probably be a bit of a mood killer. It wouldn't surprise me if there was a private suite, though. I'd call that my office. Although, I started getting the feeling that I'd regret wearing white tonight.

"Violet!" There he is. A tiny pair of arms snaked around me, "Hi, sweetie!"

"Willam!" I couldn't hold back a smile if I wanted to. I knew coming to Cosmos was a good idea.

"What brings you here?" Willam led me back to the bar, "And with the neon sign on you? Someone's looking for some fun tonight, isn't she?"

"Well," a dirty little smirk graced my face, "I'm looking to get into some trouble."

 **A/N: So, Violet's made her way back to the BDSM club Chris took her to the first time around. Even worse, she's by herself. There's no way this could end well. But that's to find out next week, isn't it? Remind me, kids. I think I need to get some post-it notes next time I go out and happen to have money on me. Definitely out of the green. But even more importantly, I'm sorry. I got a little sidetracked. But Yurio. Yurio this chapter made me want to cry. My little boy made my heart hurt just a tad and he's just as worried about Mama as everyone else. Hopefully, a quick trip to Cosmos will pull Violet out of whatever headspace she's in and everything will be ok. See you next chapter! xx**


	12. Bad Little Girl

**A/N: Hi, guys. Just a quick warning, I'm going to be coming in toward the middle of the story for a warning, but I'm going to be bolded here like I do with any other AN. Because Violet, if we remember from last week's chapter, is back at the club Chris took her to with all the bondage and the leather and all that happiness, so just like last week's chapter, there are going to be some light mentions of BDSM, but I don't want that to discourage you from reading the rest of the chapter, so I'll let you know when the red flags pop up and then, I'll give you the greenlight to keep going with the rest of the story, in case that's not your cup of tea. But like I said, it's going to be light. There will not, I repeat, WILL NOT be any graphic material. Also! Before we start, some of this was heavily inspired by a new YouTube channel that I started obsessing over called PandasticASMR. And I'm pretty sure the name's going to stay that way and it's not going to change to AkiraDubs like the last ASMR channel I told you about (that's still fantastic and you should totally sub to). Looking at you, Will. But in your defense, YouTube won't stop deleting your channel, so I understand. Shall we then? Alright, friends. Welcome to Cosmos.**

Oh, Cosmos. After a long day of impromptu practice and a little bit of a self-loathing fit, you really are a girl's best friend. Nothing but good booze and kinky people. In this beautiful den of sin, I had no room to complain. Thank you, Chris. Thank you for showing me such a wonderful place to unwind. And probably just as well, I had Willam here, too. Yes. This was exactly what I needed.

The bartender had strict orders to not cut me off from Willam. He knew I had a hard day and I knew when I had plenty. Besides, I learned from the last time. Only one troublemaker for me. After that, it's just vodka and lemonade. Maybe a few of them. What can I say? Vodka made me want to dance. And I had Willam to dance with. Although, he wouldn't go in the cage with me. Boo. Regardless, I was going to shake my ass in a white dress in a cage hanging from the ceiling of a BDSM club. I'm their catnip.

Oh yeah. Just what I needed. I had invitations coming at me left and right for threesomes, orgies, casual one-on-one sessions. This white dress was going to pay for itself in drinks tonight. Although, I think only one drink would be able to pay for it. I got it from a secondhand shop while I was still living in St. Petersburg. As much fun as all those invitations sounded, there was one that caught my attention. When Africa by Toto comes on, it's not exactly something one can ignore.

"Excuse me," a dark-haired man offered his hand to me, "Could I have this dance?"

"Absolutely." This guy looked familiar, but I couldn't place him. At this point, I didn't care who he was. He's hot and I'm drunk. Why not dance with him?

"After all," he took me out of my cage, "This is our song."

"Oh!" I squeaked as everything fell into place, "Hi!"

"Hi, Violet," he smiled, "Now, do you remember me? I mean, you were pretty wasted the last time I saw you."

"I remember you," I fell in his arms, "Mike, right?"

"That's right," he nodded, "How about another drink? What's your poison?"

"Vodka lemonade," I smiled, ready for this night to really take off, "So? Are you and I going to take that trip to Africa tonight?"

"So anxious," Mike chuckled, "So impatient. Can't I ask you about your day or how you've been since I last saw you?"

"Personally," I finished my last drink, "I'm kind of in a mood tonight, so I'm not feeling the fluff and we all know that when people ask about someone's day, it's a bullshit formality and nine times out of ten, they could care less. If I could skip to the good stuff already, so I don't have to waste time, that'd be great. You wouldn't know where I could get that, would you?"

"I might have an idea," he kissed my cheek, "How about you and I get a room?"

"That," I beamed, "sounds like a hell of a plan."

"With or without a window?" Mike asked, "Are you feeling adventurous, Violet?"

"No window," I decided, "I'm feeling a little shy."

"That's ok," he whispered in my ear, "I like them shy. More for me."

His rich, warm voice shook me to my core. I went straight back to the bar. Another drink would ease my nerves. Maybe a troublemaker. No. I wanted to get into trouble tonight, not walk out with an arrest record. Besides, I needed a friend to spazz to and Chris couldn't come out and play tonight. Something tells me if I were to call him right now, Victor would hear it and I wouldn't hear the end of it. I'm not even supposed to be here tonight, but oh well. What Daddy doesn't know won't kill him.

"Look at you," Willam teased, "Who's the cutie after you tonight, Violet? You have those, 'I'm about to get laid' eyes going on."

"I know I don't remember much about the other night," I swirled my lemonade in my glass, "But do you remember me talking about a guy named Mike?"

"I thought that was him!" he ad a deadly smirk on his face, "Nice guy. I know him."

"He's getting us a playroom upstairs," I went on, "Do you know what he's into?"

"I've heard some things," Willam stared into his drink, "Experienced some things."

"You've been with Mike?!" I squeaked.

"And?" he scoffed, "We all hare here, Violet. Unless otherwise specified. Some of the doms get really territorial over their subs."

"But you've been with Mike?" I know he and I never said anything about exclusivity, but I couldn't help being a little jealous.

"I've been with Christophe, too," Willam sipped delicately on his martini, "I wish I could've gotten one last crack at him before he got married. Oh well. You're overthinking, Violet. Relax and trust that Mike can find your rhythms. Believe me when I say he's like a bloodhound for that kind of thing."

I didn't want Willam's sloppy seconds, but if I could push that out of my head, I bet tonight's going to be fun. I slammed the end of my drink and caught Mike jingling our room key. Room 23, I see, going by his hands, "Wish me luck."

"You crazy kids have fun," Willam sent me off, "Condoms are in the nightstand. Lube is in the bathroom, if need be."

I followed Mike upstairs to our windowless room. With every step, my heart started racing faster and faster. Then again, that could be all the vodka in my system…And the absinthe…And the fact that I'm possibly getting some action for the first time in ages. This was going to be fun. At least I hope so. The room was oddly nice, too. I expected it to be more of a dungeon. Chains on the walls, whips hanging on a rack somewhere. This just looked like a hotel room. Were they all like this?

 **A/N: Hi, friends! Lumi again. Just checking in. Making sure you're doing alright. Because red flag. They're about to start discussing the details beforehand. I'll give you another yell when it's all over.**

"Alright, Violet," Mike sat me down on the black silk sheets, "I know you're excited to do this, but just like last time you were here, we need to set a few ground rules."

"You mean our safe word?" I figured, "Can't we use the same one as last time?"

"Something to keep you on your toes," he shrugged, "So, what shall it be tonight?"

"Malyshka," I picked, slurring it a bit.

"Malyshka?" Mike wondered, "What is that?"

"Something my ex-husband called me a long time ago," I remembered, "Moy malyshka, he'd say. Usually, we'd be laying in bed at the end of the night. Why not?"

"What's it mean?" he looked around in the room for fun stuff for us to use.

"My little girl," I translated, "It's Russian."

"I thought so," Mike came back to me, "And I'd say it's very fitting. Moy malyshka. For tonight anyway. Now, Violet, when do we use the safe word?"

"When anything gets to be too much for me to handle."

"Good girl," he gave me a soft, gentle kiss on my lips, "Can I ask you something?"

"Anything?" I laid my head on his shoulder, "What do you want to know?"

"You're so adorable," Mike cradled my face in the palm of his hand, "And you're so wonderfully submissive for me. Since the first time I met you, I've always wondered what it'd be like if you were my pet. Do you think you could indulge your master for tonight?"

Without another thought, I slid off the bed and got down on all fours, "Was this what you meant?"

"Precisely," he patted my head, "God, you're so cute, my pet. Do you think I could pet you some more?"

"Yes, Master," I leaned my head in a little more.

"Damn, Violet," Mike ran his hand up and down my back, "You have such soft skin."

"Thank you, Master," I stretched out on the floor, "That's mostly my ex-husband's doing."

"No," he hushed me, "I don't want anymore talk about any other masters my good little pet has had before me."

"He was never my master," I moved closer, "But he's the reason why my skin is so good."

"And he's not your master now," Mike turned territorial, "Who's your new master?"

"You are."

"If you keep dwelling on your old masters," his voice took on a more authoritative tone, getting me a little riled up, "I'm going to have to punish my pet. You don't want that, do you?"

"No, Master," I submitted, "I'll be good."

"That's my girl," Mike pulled me into his lap, running his hand through my hair, "you know, I could sit right here and pet my beautiful pet all night. What should you and I do to pass the time?"

I climbed up his arm, softly kissing his cheek, "Could we start here, Master?"

"Down, pet," he commanded, "I never said you could come up."

"I'm sorry," I pouted, curling back up in his lap. I laid my head on Mike's thigh, "I just missed you so much."

"I understand," Mike went back to petting me, "I missed you, too, Violet, but I can show a bit of restraint. For now, I'll let this slide. Now, how about we play a little? There's a silk tie in the closet that I think you'll like."

"It sounds like fun," I cheered.

"You stay," Mike got up from the floor, "I'll go get it for you, ok? Then, we can play together."

I couldn't take it anymore. Every command Mike gave me made me sweat. The more he had his hands on me, the more I wanted them everywhere. Any time he threatened me with a punishment, butterflies would stir in my stomach. The wait was killing me! Don't get me wrong. The foreplay was one hell of a ride, but there was only one thing on my mind now.

"There we are," he had a deep blue tie wrapped up in his fingers. When he sat back down, Mike dangled it in front of my face, "See? Isn't it nice?"

"Yeah," I started batting at it out of reflex.

"Aren't we a playful thing," he praised, "Shit, Violet. Stop being so cute! You like this one, don't you?"

"Thank you, Master," I kept playing and he would jerk it away from me only to bring it back.

"Now, if there's something else my pet wants," Mike kissed the top of my head, "All she has to do is say something."

"Actually," I left the tie alone for a minute.

"Hey," he started to worry, "Why'd you stop? Is everything alright, Violet? What does my pet need?"

"I…" I turned up the shy, innocent lover routine that I now knew drove him crazy, "I need to be taken care of, Master. And not just with pets and tummy rubs and silk ties for me to play with."

"I see," Mike traced his fingers down my body, "Is my little pet looking for a little physical release?"

"Please?" I gave him some of the biggest puppy eyes I've ever used in my life.

"Well," he lifted my face up to him, "Since she asked so nicely."

And for the next half hour, my body was filled with complete and utter bliss. Time and time again. Willam was right. Mike did have a bloodhound's nose for that kind of thing. If I were one to smoke, I'd definitely be having a cigarette right now. Now would be a good time to start, but I can't start smoking. That'd be hell on the lungs while I'm skating.

 **A/N: Alright, kids. You can open your eyes again. All of the wink wonk is done and over with.**

"Here, sweetheart," Mike made me a drink while I was still laying in bed, "Thirsty?"

"Hell yes," I sighed out, "You have no idea how much I needed that."

"Feel better?" he gave me my glass.

"So much better," I finally caught my breath, "Can we drop the whole pet and master thing for now?"

"Sure," Mike climbed back into bed with me, "What would you like to do now?"

"Do you think we could go again?" I teased, leaving soft kisses on his neck.

"One day," he promised, "But right now, you need to relax a little and I don't think I could go again for a little while. Any time you need something like this, you're more than welcome to give me a call."

"I know what we can do!" I drank half my lemonade in one drink and got my phone off the nightstand.

"What are you doing?" Mike nestled his face in my neck, "You strike me as one of those people that should have their phones taken away when their drunk."

"I'm not drunk," I scrolled through my contacts, looking for one number in particular.

"Hi!" Dammit. Right to voicemail, "This is Christophe. Leave a message!"

"It's only two o'clock, you bitch!" I whined, "What are you doing? And you gave shit about being old. Thank you…Thank you so much…Say hi, Master!"

"Hi?" Mike gave me a look, "Who am I saying hi to?"

"It's Chris!" I beamed, "And he's probably sleeping. He's no fun."

"Chris?" Then, Mike got angry, "Who's Chris, Violet?"

"Don't worry," I cuddled into him, "He's just a friend of mine."

"I've heard that too many times before," he growled, "What kind of friend is he, Violet? Another casual?"

"Chris?" I laughed hysterically, "No! Don't get me wrong, Chris. You're a cutie and any man would be lucky to have you, but he's married to my ex-husband. You have nothing to worry about."

"So," Mike relaxed a bit, "He really is just a friend?"

"Although," I remembered, "I think he's told me that I'd be the only woman he'd ever allow into a threesome with him and Victor…That's right, isn't it, Chris? That's right. This is your voicemail. Hey, Master…"

"Yes, my pet?" he wrapped his arms around me, kissing up my jawline.

"I think I'm going to go home," I started getting a little dizzy, "I need to cut myself off here. There's a lot of vodka in my system and I need to go home. I got practice in a few hours and my coach is going to kill me if I'm not there."

"You know," Mike switched from kisses to light bites, "You and I could go back to my place. I'm sure wherever you practice isn't too far from my apartment."

"I can't," I shot him down, "As much as I'd like to."

"What's this?" he grabbed my jaw, "Is my little pet saying no to me?"

I froze up, getting a tad nervous, "Can I…Can I do that…Master?"

"I guess," Mike pouted a bit, "At least let me get you a cab."

"Okie dokie!" I got out of bed and stumbled a few steps, searching the floor for my dress and my underwear, "Chris, I'm coming home tonight. I'll be there soon."

"I'll see you again soon, right?" he hoped.

"Maybe," I drawled, "I don't know. We'll see. Bye! Bye, Chris! Bye, Mike! Bye, Cosmos!"

I hung up my phone and put it back in my bag. Once I was dressed again, I straightened myself up and walked out of the club. With Mike's help. Fortunately, there were no cameras and there were no reporters there begging me for statements. See? I could have a night out without a babysitter. I loved Gene to death, but I didn't need him all the time. And look at that. I didn't get sloppy. I got laid, though, so I had that going for me.

Soon enough, I was back at my building and managed to find the elevator that took me right up to my floor. And in my condo, I would fall asleep on my floor all the same. I wasn't sure if it was the combination of booze and post sex glow making me tired or the events of the previous day making me so tired, but the floor never looked so comfortable. Right there in the kitchen, I curled up in front of the stove and went to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up on my couch covered up in a blue throw that usually draped over the back. How the hell did I get here? Did drunk me have enough forethought to shut the curtains, too? Because damn, this headache hurt. And I could only imagine what time it was and how bright the sun would be. I looked over at my phone that was also plugged in. Kudos to drunk Violet for hooking a sober sister up. Shortly after ten.

Shit! I'd be late for practice, wouldn't I? Although, Celestino moved my practice. He'd finish up with Yurio around eleven, give him a couple hours for a nap, and take him to Madame's after. That couple hour gap was my practice window. And I had an hour to get ready and come up with a story that's good enough to convince Celestino that I'm not hungover.

"Good morning, Violet," a soft, Russian accent melted in my ear. And in those three little words, I knew…I'm screwed.

 **A/N: So, Violet's got a little bit of a wild streak in her. And apparently, some kinks she didn't know about. Who knew pet play would be her thing? Regardless, there are likely some questions that will need some answers. And you'll get those answers next week. Next week, this whole ending will make more sense. But until then, you crazy kids are going to have to wait. Think you could do that? I know you can. Until next time, friends. See you next chapter! xx**


	13. Who I Am and Who I've Been

**A/N: Hi, guys! Just as a heads up, there's a part that gets really fluffy in this chapter. So, you hang in there, kids. Ok? Kisses!**

"Victor," I scrambled a bit, looking for clothes. Ok. I'm not naked, so I have that going for me. My head hurts like hell, but that's to be expected after last night. Still no explanation of how I got on the couch, though. For now, I'll take it as a win. Back to the task at hand, "What are you doing here?"

"Just thought I'd drop in," Victor got up to sit with me, "Gene let me in. He's delightful, by the way."

"Thanks, Victor!" Gene called from the kitchen.

"And I was going to see if you were doing anything before practice," he wondered.

"Shit..." I groaned, "That's right. I have that practice thing."

"A little forgetful, are we?" he poked at me.

"Please," I rolled my eyes, instantly regretting it. That made me dizzy, "If you could spare me the lecture this morning, that'd be great. I'm in no mood for it."

"So, you slept on the couch last night," Victor pushed my tangled mess of hair out of my face, "Violet, I'm your best friend, not your physical therapist. Why would I lecture you about that?"

"Sorry," I relaxed. By the sounds of it, he's clueless, "I'm still kind of scatterbrained."

"Although..." Shit. Here it comes, "I noticed you left your vodka out last night. That bottle was fuller the last time I saw it."

Dammit, Violet. You sloppy drunk, "What about it?"

"I thought you seemed a little off," Victor caught on, putting his hand to my forehead, "Not feeling too hot, are you?"

"No," I curled into his shoulder, hoping it'd lessen the blow.

"At least you had the sense to stay home," he kissed the top of my throbbing head.

As far as he knew. And that's the way it's going to stay, "Yeah. Finished off some leftover Chinese food, watched a movie, had a few, and I must've fallen asleep out here."

"Nevertheless," Victor got up and held his hand out to me, "Come on."

"What?" I gave him a look, "Why? Where?"

"Violet," he giggled to himself, "It's not my first time taking care of you the morning after. Come with me. You and I are going out before you go to practice and I have a feeling that Celestino would kill you if he knew you were hungover."

"Very true," I shuddered at the thought of a pissed off Celestino. Again. On a day like today, I didn't need to deal with that, "But where are we going? You make it sound like I'm getting kidnapped."

"Excuse me?" Gene perked up from his Wall Street Journal.

"Not kidnapping," Victor clarified, "But I thought it'd be nice for us to spend some quality time together before you go to practice."

"Ok," I let him have that one, "But where are we going right now?"

"Your bathroom," he led me down the hall and through my bedroom, "Like I said, you act like this is the first time I've ever taken care of you. You look for clothes. I'm going to run your bathtub."

"Ok," I knew what he had up his sleeve. Victor had this thing where he genuinely enjoyed taking care of me. In case that wasn't painstakingly obvious. Any chance he'd get to baby me, he'd take it. A long time ago, I landed wrong on the ice and dislocated my shoulder. That's how I found this little quirk. It was my first major injury and Victor took full advantage of it.

And I couldn't say no. As far as any physical intimacy was concerned, Victor giving me the occasional bath when I was deadass tired was as far as we got. I didn't mind and neither did he. Now, while the water's running...I could come back and change before practice, right? I got a soft pink dress out of my closet and clean underwear out of my dresser. When I went back into my bathroom, Victor sat at the edge of the tub with more bottles by his side than I knew I had.

"Violet, come here," Victor ordered, giving me flashbacks to last night. I'll try to hold off the nosebleed and resist the urge to call him master, "It's been a while since I've done this and I want you to tell me if the water's too hot."

I sat on the other side of the tub and ran my fingers through the perfectly warm water, "Damn, you still got it. Do you still remember exactly how I like my bath water?"

"Hot enough to feel like you're in Hell," Victor quoted me, "But not hot enough to fry your skin off."

"Aww..." I gushed, "You do remember."

"Of course I do," he smiled, "One of the happier times in our marriage. Like I'm going to forget that. Now, I suggest you get in before it cools off."

"Fine," I reached around to the back of my dress, trying to reach the pain in the ass zipper, "Could you help a sister out here?"

"Sorry," Victor unzipped me, "I'm assuming our same unspoken rule still applies?"

"You don't look when I get naked," I confirmed, "After that, everything is fair game."

"I don't understand," he turned his back to me, "I've seen you naked a million times before. Why is this any different?"

"Because," I cringed, peeling off my leggings, "When I was still escorting, a lot of guys would want to watch me get undressed and it'd always weird me out."

"Striptease?" Victor assumed.

"Perverts," I shrugged, getting into the water, "Alright. You're good."

"Fantastic," he turned back around. And immediately, his eyes went to my legs. Shit...And they looked like they were going to pop out of his head like a cartoon, "Mother of God, Violet! What did you do?"

"What do you mean?" I played it off like nothing was wrong. But the yellow and purple splotches on my legs were telling a different story.

"Don't give me that," Victor pulled my leg out of the water, "That!"

"I fell at practice last week," I kicked my leg back, "I'm fine."

"Did you get looked at?" he hoped. But my stunned silence told him all he needed to know, "Violet!"

"I'm fine," I reiterated, "Honestly, Victor. You worry too much about me."

"I don't worry enough about you," Victor hit me in the nose with the corner of a washcloth, "I know these kinds of things are just an occupational hazard, but you could've seriously gotten hurt. You know better than this."

"Thanks, Mom," I teased, "I thought you said you weren't going to lecture me today."

"When did I start a lecture?" he asked, "Where in that was a lecture?"

"Point made," I slid down into the water, "After the first day, I was a little stiff, but I'm fine now."

"Try not to fall on it anymore," Victor begged, getting my hair wet, "Please?"

"No promises," I agreed, "But yes. I'll try falling the other way, if at all."

"Thank you," he skimmed over his bottles and pulled all of my hair out of my face. If his hands don't come out purple, I'll be amazed, "Violet, I know I sound overbearing, but if I didn't love you, I wouldn't care so much."

"I know," I surrendered into his hands, feeling his fingertips work into my toes. Damn, I missed this, "Thank you."

"My pleasure," a little smile returned to Victor's face, "Put your head back."

"I have a question," I tilted my head back as he asked, "You said we were going somewhere today before practice."

"I did," he confirmed, "What about it?"

"Where are we going?" I wondered, "If you don't tell me, it really will feel like I'm getting kidnapped here."

"It's a surprise," Victor rinsed my hair out, leaving a purple cloud in the water, "We'll be going a couple places."

"Is it my birthday?" I thought for a minute. What was the date today anyway?"

"No," he giggled, "It's not your birthday. That's not until November. Your birthday's a week before Yuri's. Let's just say I'm taking you somewhere you desperately need."

Don't be rehab. Don't be rehab. Don't be rehab, "Is this my intervention?"

"You don't need an intervention," Victor assured, taking a washcloth to my face. Whatever scrub he was using, I needed it in ample quantities. It smelled like orange blossoms and sunshine, "Unless you think you do and you're not telling me something."

"No," I promised, "I'm fine."

"Good," he poked my nose, "You're so cute some days, Violet. You really are."

"Don't give me that," I blushed a little.

"And don't give me that."

"What am I giving?"

"I don't need your sass."

"Coming from the sass queen himself," I jabbed.

"You know it's bad when," Victor stole a little kiss on my cheek, "You're done, Violet. You're all clean."

"Thank you," I took a warm, fluffy towel off the shelf and started drying off.

"What do you think you're doing?" he wrapped his arms around me.

"Little things, Victor," I reminded him, "Let me do the little things. Everything else, you're more than welcome to."

"Fine," Victor pulled me into his lap and took my brush off the vanity. I don't know where my sudden sensitivity came from, but with every stroke he took, I couldn't sit still. I hardly had the energy to bathe myself, but now, I'm all twitchy? Weird, "Are you alright, Violet?"

"Yeah," I squeaked out, "Fine."

I'm not sure why, but I had the strange urge to call Mike up. Maybe later. After running two French braids down my back, Victor helped me get dressed and put me together. In all honesty, I started to feel better. Initially, I wasn't too keen on the idea, but Victor baths make everything better. If he wasn't so pissed at me the last time I was viciously hungover, I'm sure I would've got one then.

"Hey, Gene," I walked out of my bedroom, almost completely healed, but more functioning than what I once was, "Are you coming with us?"

"Absolutely," Gene got up from my kitchen table, "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yep," Victor beamed, offering me his hand, "Shall we?"

"We shall." Which I gladly accepted.

"Hey, Vi," Gene stopped me, "Can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Sure," I nodded, "Victor, wait outside. I'll be right there."

"Ok," Victor left Gene and me alone.

"What did you want to talk to me about?" I wondered, genuinely confused.

"You owe me, sweetheart," Gene threw an arm around my shoulders, "You owe me big time."

"What did I do?" I freaked, even worse off.

"Your ass was on the floor when I came in this morning," he explained, hugging me tight, "You were sleeping like the dead and I had to check to make sure you were still breathing. Scared the hell out of me."

"So," I melted in his embrace, "You're the one that put me on the couch."

"Yeah," Gene nodded, "The floor didn't look too comfortable. And I don't think you wanted Victor on your ass. Now, you owe me."

"Alright," I let out a heavy sigh, "How much?"

"What do you mean?"

"What kind of a raise are you looking for?" I assumed.

"No raise," Gene assured, "A favor."

"Oh damn it all," I groaned, "What?"

"You make it sound like I'd ask you to kill a man," he giggled, "Remember when I suggested you come for dinner with me instead of going out last night and getting wasted like you said you wouldn't?"

"Yeah."

"Tomorrow night," Gene demanded, "When my shift ends, you're coming home with me. Or I could always tell Victor what I found on the floor this morning."

"Or you could not do that," I decided, "And I can go with you tomorrow."

"That's my girl," he gave me a little pop to the jaw, "Now, I think your ex-husband is waiting outside for you. I'll keep my distance, but I'll be there."

"Thank you," I laid my head in my bodyguard's chest, "And thank you for this morning. Victor would've beaten the shit out of me for something like that."

"No," Gene rocked back on his heels, "He's too much of a pacifist for that."

Without another word, Victor, Gene, and I took to the streets of New York where I followed Victor to God only knows where. He said it was a surprise. I don't think it was much of a surprise as it was a trip down memory lane. We passed by my old apartment, coffee shops we used to frequent, clubs we'd go to. Victor and Violet's greatest hits. In a nutshell. And our trip around the city ended when we stood outside the place where it all began: The Red Room.

"You know, Vi," Victor threw his arm around me, "You've come a long way since you were dancing here."

"Yeah," I chuckled nervously, "I have. Can't wait to get back to Grand Prix this year. Or just get into competing. I miss that."

"Hey," he held me a little closer, "Do you think you could make me a promise?"

"What kind of promise?"

"You have come a long way," Victor reiterated, "Please…Don't backslide. Don't forget how far you've come. When I picked you up out of these gutters, I knew there was something special about you. And I know you're going to make me proud when you go back to the competition circuit, right?"

"Of course," I wasn't quite sure what Victor was trying to get at here. I'm sure there's a point in there somewhere.

Beep!

Neat! A text! I took my phone out of my pocket. Mike?

 _I had fun last night._

 _Should do it again._

 _You free tonight?_

 _-M_

Hmm…Could I really turn him down? More importantly, could I blow Victor off like that?

 _Still recovering from last night._

 _-VP_

Beep!

 _Breakfast?_

 _-M_

I checked the clock on my phone. Damn! It's getting late.

 _Can't. I got practice._

 _Raincheck?_

 _-VP_

Beep!

 _Of course._

 _I miss you, my pet._

 _-M_

Was it getting warm out here? I think it's getting a bit warm out here. Victor nudged me out of my headspace, "Violet?"

"What?" my voice went up an octave.

"Who are you texting?" he looked over my shoulder, "It's got you smiling, so it must be good."

Oh, it's good alright. It's very good, "Celestino. Asking me about practice. Told me we were going to get to work on my program for this season."

 _See you soon, Master._

 _-VP_

 **A/N: My, my. Victor's worried about Violet (both physically and mentally). Violet's sneaking around. But I like this chapter. I like whenever we get some Victor/Violet bonding time. It does my heart good. Like milk, but for my heart. _Uh…Ms. Olivier, you're lactose intolerant._ I know, but they didn't know that, hypothetical assistant. It's a metaphor. Now, go back to your corner. _Yes, ma'am._ She'll get clean papers later. _Yay!_ But I'm going to be totally honest with you guys, the bathtub scene was totally self-indulgent. But tell me you couldn't see Victor doing that with Yuri in current canon. We'd all have nosebleeds and pass out. That guy I told you about with the anime ASMR videos AkiraDubs? Before YouTube deleted his channel, he had a video of Victor giving Yuri a bath and it was my absolute favorite. I had to listen to it in installments because it was that good. It was adorable and pure in some spots and not so pure in others, but oh, how I miss it so. Anyway, friends, I'll be off. See you next chapter! xx**


	14. Practice Makes Arguments

I don't know what the hell Victor was trying to get at by taking me to the Red Room, but unfortunately, we had to part ways there. I had to get to practice. But…I had plenty of time to stop for my usual flat white after I got changed. The line was a little long, but it'd be fine. I got my latte while Gene waited outside. In a few short minutes, I started heading for the rink. Sure enough, Celestino was waiting for me by the railing.

"Violet," he didn't sound too happy, "You're ten minutes late!"

"Sorry, Coach," I dropped my bag on the bench, still a bit out of it.

"I brought Yuri and Yurio home," Celestino scolded, "And you still weren't here! Where, in God's green Earth, were you?"

"I get it!" I groaned, my head pounding from last night, "I'm late! I stopped to get coffee. Just let me skate…"

"Hold on," he stopped me, checking me over, "Violet, are you feeling ok?"

"It's nothing," I shook him off, "Just a headache."

"Are you sick?" Celestino went from pissed off to the overly concerned parent in no time flat.

"It's just a headache," I reiterated, tying my skates.

"Wait…" And he's pissed off again, "Are you trying to get on my ice hungover, Violet Isabella?"

"No!" I snapped, thankful that Gene was keeping his mouth shut, "Love of God, Celestino, I just want to skate. Something loud, fast, and violent is preferred."

"Alright," Celestino let me go. He knew damn well my ass was lying, but as long as I could still function and I wasn't as bad as last time. He scrolled through my practice playlist and picked out a song for me. I skated out to the middle of the rink and waited for the music to start.

"Nanana come on…" Oh, perfect…Rihanna's S&M. Definitely fits the theme for the season. And it brought me back to last night. When the pet aimed to please Master. And she did. Last night, we acted on pure, raw, animal instinct. Was it dirty? Yeah. Was it nasty? Oh yeah. Was it the most mind-blowing sex I've ever had in my life? Absolutely. I couldn't wait to get back to Cosmos. Maybe we won't even go there. By the sounds of things, Mike was thinking we get breakfast before we go back to that.

Out in the stands, a series of claps echoed around the empty rink as the song came to an end. Clearly, that wasn't Gene or Celestino wouldn't have gotten so defensive, "Excuse me…This is a closed practice. Gene, get him out of here and check him for cameras."

"Look," a familiar voice stopped Gene from getting too friendly, "I'm sorry. I didn't realize I couldn't watch. I don't have any cameras. You did really well, though, Violet. I'm proud of you."

"Mike!" I knew that phrase anywhere. I jumped the rail and threw myself into his arms.

"Hi there," he kissed the top of my head, "Surprise."

"What are you doing here?" I beamed, ready to come unglued.

"I've never seen you skate before," Mike spun me around, "And you did say you had to go to practice today, so I thought I'd come watch. Is that alright?"

"No," Celestino stepped in, "I'm sorry, but like I said, this is a closed practice. Violet needs to practice and she can't have any distractions."

"Mike can stay," I insisted, "He won't be a distraction."

"No, Violet," he shot me down.

"Come on, Celestino," I wrapped my arms around his waist, batting my eyelashes at him, "Please?"

"No," Celestino glared, "How many times do I have to tell you?"

"Just for one more song?" I begged.

He thought it over for a second, shooting glances between Mike and me. Celestino was always hellbent on me practicing in solitude. He says it get me thinking clearer. But he also wanted to keep me happy. Happy Violet meant better at skating Violet, "Fine. One song. ONLY one song."

"Thank you!" He's like butter with me. I might be taking advantage of that, but oh well! I shook off the minor feeling of guilt, "Mike, any requests?"

"But Violet," Celestino reminded me, "You still have a program to choreograph."

"I know," I hurdled the wall, "By the way, Madame wants me to get back into lessons again."

"Is she going to teach you?" he wondered.

"Yeah."

"That's fine," Celestino allowed, "But right now, you still need to get your program down. You're going to have to start getting into local competitions soon."

"Hold on, malyshka," Mike smirked, taking his phone out of his pocket. Cute, Master. Using the safe word like that, "I have something you can use if your program is anything like what I just saw. Where's the aux cable?"

"Over there," I nodded toward the soundboard, "Unplug my phone."

"Ok," he went over to switch my phone for his…And Celestino pulled me aside.

"Violet," he worried, "Who the hell is that?"

"That's Mike," I explained, "He's a friend of mine."

"Are you sure?" Celestino jabbed, "You two seem a little closer than just friends."

"Celestino," I groaned, "I don't know what we are quite yet. Right now, things are just casual."

"It's just that," he pointed out, "He called you malyshka, didn't he?"

"Yeah."

"Didn't Victor call you malyshka?"

"Violet!" Mike called out to me, "Are you ready?"

"Hold on!" I hopped the barrier and got to the center of the ice, completely blowing Celestino off. I didn't need that today, "Whenever you're ready."

The music started kicking up and all I needed was a pole. Pony by Ginuwine was to guys what Pour Some Sugar on Me was to women. That's a song that brings out everyone's inner stripper. And I couldn't help myself. When Pony started, spins and jumps were definitely going to be needed. And some dips. I couldn't leave any cleavage left unshown. Besides, I could see Mike getting a bit twitchy when I was begging Celestino to let him stay. Other than my skating, I'm sure I could find another way to make Master stay.

I don't think I ever told him I used to dance in a burlesque club, so the stripper moves were probably a bit unexpected. Then again, I was rather flexible with him last night. I had enough speed to where a good sitting spin would go so hard, I'd make myself dizzy. Then, I did a few more laps and managed a FLAWLESS quad flip. Maybe Celestino will think twice about letting Mike stay for practice if I'm doing this good. And he thought Mike was going to be a distraction.

As the song started to die out, I fell onto the ice, completely out of breath. I've never put so much energy into a practice routine like that. The last time I was this out of breath was…I blushed at the thought. It was…Let's just say, rather compromising. Something that, if Celestino found out, I have a feeling Mike would've been pinned to the wall and not in the way he wanted. I don't think he was much for being the submissive.

"Violet?" Celestino yelled to me, "Are you alright?"

"Fine," I sighed out, "A little tired, but I'm good."

"You're doing great, bambina," he praised, helping me up, "How about we call it for the day, ok?"

"Ok," I skated my way back to the railing.

"You sure you're alright?" Mike lifted me over, holding me up.

"I'm sure," I fell into his chest, "Damn, that was fun."

"You sound like you could use a cold shower," he teased, "How good was it?"

"A hot shower sounds better," I admitted, kicking off my skates, "Will you hand me my shoes please?"

"Sure," Mike got my shoes out of my bag for me, "You want to go home or can you manage to stay out a little longer?"

"Why?" I smiled, taking a seat on the bench, "What'd you have in mind?"

"Cashing in on that raincheck," he decided, "You're not too tired for me, are you?"

"Of course not," I got a sudden second wind, "I could do breakfast."

"Even though it's well past breakfast?"

"Absolutely."

"That's my girl," Mike kissed my forehead, "You ready?"

"Yeah," I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder.

"Hold on," Celestino stopped me, "Violet, can I talk to you for a moment before you go?"

"Sure, Coach," I agreed, "I'll be out in a second."

"Alright," Mike understood, "I'll be waiting outside."

He gave us a minute alone and I could use a spot to sit, "What is it, Celestino? I'm starving. I'm tired. I really need a shower."

"It's about your new not boyfriend," Celestino winced, "I don't like him."

"What?" I squeaked, "Why not? What's wrong with him? Mike's a good dude."

"I think he's bad for you," he explained himself, "I know what guys like him are like."

"Celestino," I rolled my eyes, "You're reading way too far into this."

"Violet," Celestino held my face between his hands, "I've been a guy like him. I bet he makes you feel all kinds of special, doesn't he? Like you're the only girl in the world?"

Dammit…Celestino had me in a box. And put a mental image in my head I didn't want. No one wants to see Celestino having a lady like Mike had me, "And where is the bad there?"

"It's not real," he wrapped his arms around me, "He's going to get what he wants and then, when he gets bored, he's going to abandon you. I'm not proud of how many times I've done that, but I'll be damned if I let you get hurt. You're already in a fragile place."

"What the hell is with everyone?" I snapped, "I'm a lot stronger than what people are giving me credit for here! I'm not broken. I'm not going through some shit that I need to sort out. I've already done that. I made peace with the divorce a long time ago. I knew that was an inevitability. One day, Victor was going to get Yuri and Yurio and the family he wanted, then he'd get the one thing that would bring it all together. Does it suck that it wasn't me? Yeah. But that's life. I got over it. Now, everyone else needs to. I'll see you tomorrow."

Without another word, I walked away from the rink pissed off beyond belief and I needed a way to get this out. I can't believe him. Thinking that Mike isn't good for me. Neither is chocolate, but I still eat chocolate. Neither is caffeine, but I still consume it by the gallon. So, I want a little casual action on the side. Where is the harm in that? We're two consenting adults capable of making decisions. Since when did Celestino figure he needed to step in and be my dad?

"Violet…?" Gene tapped on my shoulder on our way out.

"Don't," I demanded, an icy tone in my voice, "If you're going to ask me if I'm ok, I may punch you."

"Alright," he kept his mouth shut. Good.

"Hey," Mike took my hand outside, "Violet…?"

"What?" I growled, immediately regretting it.

"Well, well," he hushed me, keeping his voice down as well, "Since when does my pet have such a bark on her?"

"I'm sorry," I bit my overly sharp tongue, "Celestino kind of pissed me off and I took it out on you. I'm so sorry."

"You know," Mike threw his arm around me, "I missed you, pet. And you need to cool off. What would you say about falling off the grid for a while?"

"Define off the grid," he had me curious.

"I was thinking," he purred in my ear, "You come back to my penthouse with me. How does that sound?"

"Honestly," I laid my head on his shoulder, "That sounds amazing. Let's do that."

"Absolutely," Mike held me a little closer.

"Wait," I thought for a second, "We need to stop by the Red Room first."

"The Red Room?" he gasped, "What for?"

"I need to talk to my dance teacher," I explained, getting us a cab.

"And she's at the Red Room?"

"Yeah," I got my door, "Come on."

The two of us had a quiet ride to the Red Room and I nearly fell asleep a time or two. I never thought I'd be thankful for potholes. Once we got there, the door was already unlocked. Funny. This place doesn't typically open up until seven o'clock at night. The Madame must already have a student here. Awesome!

"Alright, sweetheart," she instructed, "You're doing great these past couple weeks and I'm so proud of you. Make sure you take care of yourself, too, ok?"

"Yes, Madame," a soft, sweet Russian accent came from the angel at her waist. And in that moment, my heart melted, "Are we going to get into chorography tomorrow?"

"I'll have to talk to Celestino," Madame thought it over, "But you'll probably be ready for it. Remember, I'm doing your mama's routine, too."

"Mike," I insisted, "Stay here. I won't be long."

"Ok," he let me go.

"Hey!" Madame caught sight of me, "Speak of the devil."

"Mama!" Yurio ran and jumped into my arms. If anything was going to get me to automatically calm down after the fight I got into with my overbearing coach, it'd be him.

"Hi, baby," I hugged him tight, "I wasn't expecting to see you here so early."

"What brings you by, Vi?" Madame asked.

"I was talking with Celestino while I was at practice," I told her, "And he said you are more than welcome to be my dance teacher again."

"Yay!" she squealed, "It'll be just like the good old days again. I hope you know this means you're under no obligation to come back to work here, but the occasional guest appearance would be appreciated."

"No," I shot her down, "That's all over for me."

"Hold on," Madame quieted me, turning her attention to the hot piece of ass leaned up against the bar, "Sorry, sweetie. We're closed."

"No worries," Mike settled her, "I'm with Violet."

"Mama," Yurio asked, "Who's he?"

"He's a new friend of mine," I put him down, "And I have plans with him today. If you want to swing by my place later, I know of a certain kitty that misses you."

"Nadya?"

"That's the one," I kissed the top of my baby's head, "Who's coming to get you, dovahkiin?"

"Madame's bringing me home," Yurio told me, "Uncle Chris had practice and Victor's busy with Yuri."

"Why don't you just crash at my place?" I allowed, "Nadya likes to take long naps, too."

"Ok," he smiled, lighting up my entire world, "When will you be back?"

"I don't know," I shrugged, catching a glimpse of Mike out of the corner of my eye, growing impatient, "But I have to get going."

Yurio scaled my leg and latched himself around my neck, "I love you, Mama."

"I love you, too, Yuri," I squeezed him tight, "Madame, when do you want me?"

"Nine o'clock," Madame decided, "That's in the morning, too. We're not doing midafternoon practices."

"I don't know if I can swing nine," I thought it over, "Could we maybe move it to eight?"

"That works for me," she allowed, "I'll see you then."

I left Yurio in the capable hands of the Madame and headed to Mike's penthouse. Wherever that may be. It was close enough to where we didn't need to get a cab, so we had that going for us. Although, Mike looked a little bothered. Maybe if I turn up the cute and the charm, he'll even out, "Master, is there something on your mind?"

"I didn't know you had a kid," he thought.

"I have two."

"And you worked at the Red Room?"

"A long time ago."

"Master's little pet is keeping secrets from him," Mike's voice took on a darker tone.

"You didn't ask," I blew it off, thinking it's no big deal.

Then, that dirty little grin stretched across his face, "Let's get back to my place. I'm not too big on your tone."

Uh-oh. Either things are about to get really fun or really bad…And it was a long elevator ride up to the top of his building…

 **A/N: I like Mike. Mike's a delight. I also love the idea of Violet being either the type that shows up ten minutes early or half an hour late with a latte. There is no in between. And I'm going to be honest with you, friends. I missed seeing Yurio. Yurio is my squish baby and I love him. There's a disturbing lack of the babies in this story and I need to remedy that. But there's also a reason why there's a disturbing lack of the babies in this story. However! We make up for it with fatherly Celestino, which I don't understand why, but I'm seriously loving. He's worried. He cared for Violet at a time when hardly anyone did (ie. He met her parents when she first started her career and he's not a big fan of them for the lack of support they give to their daughter.) But it's also getting late and I'm thinking about going to bed. See you next chapter! xx**


	15. Master's Malyshka

**A/N: Do you know how weird it is writing light BDSM when your mom's in the room and figures she needs to clean your closet? It's really unsettling, friends. By the way, there's going to be mentions of light BDSM in this chapter, in case you wanted to know. It's not going to get too graphic, though. It's a glass of iced tea with a lemon wedge on the side. It's not exactly in your tea, but it's there. Are we getting the metaphor? Golly, I sure hope so. Enjoy!**

Mike's penthouse was nicer than the one we had in St. Petersburg. And probably twice the size. This place was gorgeous. It looked like the epitome of luxury. Very Victorian London gentlemen's club. And it only got better the further we walked in. Once we passed the bookshelf lined entryway, it opened up into the warm, rich living room. This felt like one of those places where I'd get yelled at for touching anything.

SWAT!

I let out a little yelp as Mike slapped my ass before I got the chance to sit down, "Hello…"

"You stay here, pet," Mike ordered, gesturing to the overly stuffed, black leather couch. I had a feeling it would swallow me on impact.

"Where are you going, Master?" I asked eagerly, curious about what he had in store for me.

"Well," he went into his kitchen, digging through the cabinets, "I'd hate for my little pet to get hungry while we're playing. You had a long practice, didn't you?"

"Yes," I laid my head on the arm of the couch. My legs were killing me and all the falls were finally starting to take their toll. If I sat like this any longer, I knew damn well I would fall asleep.

"You sound like it," Mike noticed, "Maybe we'll have to hold off on the rough shit for right now. I saw how hard you went today. A little rest won't kill you. Is there anything specific you'd like to eat, Violet?"

Honestly, I'd kill a man for Victor's pelmeni right now. A big bowl of them, "Do you know how to make pelmeni? Some of those would hit the spot."

"I don't even know what that is," he joined me, giving me the silent go ahead to ball up in his lap, "What's pelmeni?"

"They're dumplings, essentially," I cuddled into him, "It's Russian food. I don't know why, but I have a horrible craving for Russian food."

"My little angel knows quite a bit about Russia," Mike brushed my hair out of my face, "How did she get so smart?"

"I used to live there," I held back a yawn, "I spent seven years in St. Petersburg."

"What would you be doing all the way in Russia?" he asked, cradling me delicately in his arms.

"Skating," I explained, "Raising my boys while my ex-husband was gone. It was great while it lasted."

"Your ex-husband would leave you?" Mike kissed the top of my head, "How could he? I don't even like when you go home at the end of our playtime. It takes away from this. You do like when we do this, right, sweetheart?"

"Absolutely," I turned into a puddle as he started scratching my head all over. Damn, this felt good.

"Now, he propped me up a bit, keeping those scratches coming, "I know you're tired, but I need you to stay with me. Can you do that for Master?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good girl," Master praised, rewarding me with a few soft, sweet kisses, "You know Master wants to make you happy. Making you happy is how I show you I love you and it makes me happy, too. So, I need to ask you one thing."

"Of course," I allowed, "What's on your mind, Master? What do you want to know?"

"How exactly do you make pelmeni?" Mike wondered, "I'd still hate for my pet to go hungry."

"Actually," I rested my head on his shoulder, "I've never made pelmeni myself. I mean, I've tried, but it just turns into a mess."

"In that case," he suggested, "We could always order some."

"No," I shook my head, "None of the restaurants in tow can do it right. To my knowledge, only one person in all of New York can make good pelmeni and I'm pretty sure he's busy right now."

"Look at that," Mike threw me over his knees, "Is my perfect, well-behaved pet being picky?"

"I wouldn't say picky…"

SWAT!

"I would," Mike growled in my ear, sending more of a chill through my body than the smack on my ass, "Now, since we can't get pelmeni that's to your standards, what else can we get to fill that cute little belly of yours?"

"There's a ramen shop in the East Village," I told him, "They deliver. They're really good, too."

"I'm not eating that garbage."

"No," I clarified, "Real ramen is nothing like the instant stuff. Please, Master. Spicy ramen?"

Mike thought it over for a second or two, still not totally sold, "Fine. Stay here. I'll order you some spicy ramen."

"Thank you, Master," I went back to laying on the couch by myself, ready to take a nap. I haven't had a good, spicy ramen since we were in Japan. When we go back for competition, I'm binging. Mmm…The Red Dragon ramen house in Shibuya and the kung pao ramen. Mmm…I need that in my life like yesterday. That sounds even better than the pelmeni.

"Violet," Mike called out, "What do you want?"

"Pork, ginger broth, one egg, green onion, soy sauce and sriracha on the side!" I yelled back. I knew exactly what I wanted. I've ordered enough ramen in my life to know how to order. It's like getting Chipotle, except better. Even in my half-asleep state, I still knew my ramen order like the back of my hand.

"Well then," he came back in and threw himself into the couch, "We have approximately an hour until food gets here. How, my dear pet, shall we pass the time?"

"Can I take a nap?" I was almost there. A few more minutes with my eyes closed and I'd be asleep. I curled into Mike's lap, making myself comfortable.

"You really are tired, aren't you, Violet?" Mike ran his hand down my spine.

"Uh-huh," I sighed out.

"Oh, baby," he cuddled me, "Go ahead and take a nap. I'll wake you when food's here, ok?"

"Ok," I yawned, letting my eyes finally shut.

"But," Mike forced my gaze, "When you wake up and we're done eating, you and I are going to log in some hours together. I hope you know that."

"Yes, sir," I agreed quickly. That might have woken me up a little more. Regardless, I needed the nap. Slowly, I shut my eyes again and drifted off. A sudden wave of nostalgia hit me. Way back when, before Victor and I got the boys, naps in the hotels were a regular thing. His thick, muscular thighs made for such a good pillow. They still do. It made me curious. What is he up to right now? Practicing with Yuri, maybe? Maybe with Yurio, too. It's weird to think about my boys when I'm in the lap of another man…

A little while later, I felt a tap on my shoulder. I didn't want to move. Then, a string of kisses traced up my neck, "Violet…Wake up, sweetheart."

Even better, a spicy scent filled my nose. Mmm…Ramen's here. I opened my eyes and saw the bag sitting on the table. God. Bless. That woke me up, "Good morning."

"Good morning," Mike sat me up, "Hungry?"

"Starving," I rubbed my eye.

"We can't have that," he got my bowl for me, "Do you want a fork or chopsticks?"

"Chopsticks," I insisted, "My god, you don't eat good ramen with fork. That's like an insult."

"Alright," Mike got me a pair from the bag, "Here. You'll have to show me how to use them. I've never been good with chopsticks."

"It's real simple," I promised, "Hold your first one like a pencil, put the second one on top, wedge your finger between them, and use. Easy."

"You're American, though," he struggled a bit, "What would we ever need chopsticks for?"

"I've been to Japan many times," I told him, "If I don't use chopsticks there, I get yelled at. Either by my ex-husband or my son."

"Your son is Russian."

"My other son is Japanese."

"How many kids do you have?" Mike gasped, giving up on them altogether.

"Two," I could've sworn I told him that, "We adopted them together. I couldn't say no to one, my ex-husband couldn't say no to another, so we walked out with two babies instead of one."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to wrap my head around that," he tossed them aside and got a fork out of the kitchen, "You've been a mom to two little boys, one of which I've kind of met, and yet, I've also seen your ankles behind your head and you kneeling at my feet. It's a weird juxtaposition to think about."

"I'm more than just a mom," I reminded him, draping a noodle in my mouth. I forgot how good real ramen was, "I'm a woman, too."

"You're not just a woman, though," Mike joined me, laying it on even thicker, "You're my pet, too. You know, I kind of want to go back to Cosmos tonight. Maybe we could try a room with a window this time. Go with a voyeurism thing."

"No," I shook my head, "I don't like that. Other people don't need to see me naked or in compromising positions. I'm sorry, but the chances of that happening are pretty slim. I don't need to be censored on magazine covers. Pictures like that would fetch a high price, I'm sure."

"Ok," he let it go, "I understand. But Violet, there are ways around that. Voyeurism and costumes all in the same go? My god, is it my birthday?"

"Not that I know of," I giggled, stuffing my face, "I don't know. One little thing slips and suddenly, people know who I am."

"How famous are you?" Mike fed me a bite.

"I wouldn't say famous," I blushed, "But I'm pretty well known in the skating world. Not necessarily for my skating, though."

"What else would you be known for?"

"I..." I bit my lip, "I don't want to get into that."

"Come on, Violet," he pried, "I'm sure it's not that bad."

"Malyshka," I spoke softly. I never thought I'd have to use the safe word outside of sexy times.

"That bad, huh?" Mike stopped, "Or is it just a touchy subject?"

"It's one of those things that revolves around my divorce," I skirted around it, "But like I said, I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well then," he put his empty bowl back on the coffee table, "Why not a little something, something to get your mind off this unpleasantness?"

I see where he's going with this. Without thinking, I turned up the charm, "And what did you have in mind, Master?"

"Come with me," Mike extended his hand, "I think it's time I show you my bedroom."

Who was I to say no? I took Master's hand and the two of us walked into his bedroom. Deep reds decorated the room to no surprise. This place was dripping with sex. It only made me wonder how many other pets my master has taken on…Or still has. He was comfortable enough to keep the handcuffs hanging around the bedpost, so I couldn't help myself.

"Violet," he sat me at the edge of his king-sized bed, sinking me into the silk sheets, "I have a present for you."

"What kind of present?" I wondered, perking up a bit.

"Stay here, pet," Master ordered, "I have to go get it."

"Ok," I could hardly contain myself. A present from Master? Already? We only started doing this recently.

"Here," Mike came back in with a box in his hand. A long box. Like…A jewelry box, "Open it, sweetheart."

That scared me a bit. Not going to lie. I wasn't expecting presents today, but I'm not complaining. Slowly, I cracked open the box to find a thin, purple collar laying in the lining with a little silver bell and a tag on it, "Master, what's this for?"

"A little reminder," he took it out of the box and wrapped it around my neck, doing the buckle in the back, "You don't have to wear this all the time, but in here and at Cosmos, I want this on you. It's even got your name on the tag. You are my pet and I want people to know that you're off limits. Purple is my usual color. The fact that it's also your name is a happy accident. What do you say to Master?"

"Thank you, Master," I got in his lap, kissing his cheek.

"That's my girl," Mike held me against his chest, "I got you another one, too. But your other collar is more of a choker. Something you'll be able to wear all the time. But we don't need that one right now. How about we get things started? Just like we did last time?"

"Yes, Master," I knelt down at his feet, getting the same rush I had at Cosmos. Only this time, I didn't have the absinthe buzz helping me along. Master was going to have to work for it. Sure, the collar thing was a little weird, but to each their own. Who was I to judge? I was just as much of a willing participant in this as he was. This was Master's sandbox and I had to play by his rules. When I play by Master's rules, I get mind blowing sex in the middle of the afternoon. And I have no room to complain.

"Wow, Vi," Mike cuddled me, "You really are a little acrobat, aren't you?"

"I try," I curled into his chest, my body aching all over the place.

"Hey," he took notice, "You're awfully tense, baby. You ok?"

"Yeah," I tried stretching out the pain, but no such luck, "Some of the old war wounds are being a dick right now. I'll be alright."

"You know what would help that?" Mike suggested, "A nice, long, hot bath."

"It would," I agreed, "But I don't know if I got that kind of time."

"Then, how about a shower?" he kissed all over my neck.

"That does sound nice," I got up from the bed and gathered up my clothes.

"Where are you going, Violet?" Mike wondered.

"Uh…" I wasn't sure what he was getting at here, "Home?"

"I was thinking," he followed me, wrapping his arms around me, "You and I could go take that shower together. How does that sound?"

It was knocking on six o'clock and I really should be heading home, but I didn't have anywhere else to be, "Ok."

"Come on," Mike pulled me along into the bathroom and started the water. I feel like if he would've brought me to his bathtub, my head would've gone to an entirely different place and certain names would slip. He didn't need that.

Although…Master did insist he washed me in the name of him taking care of his pet. And cuddling under the showerhead was nice, too. He ran a warm washcloth down my back and paid special attention to my bruises on my legs, marking them each with a gentle kiss. Mike took very good care of me. When we got out, we just laid on his bed, completely content. If I wasn't careful, I'd fall back asleep here.

Ring, ring!

"That's me," I groaned, reaching over to the nightstand, "It's my ex-husband."

"Let it go to voicemail," Mike traced his finger down my face, "I'm sure if it's important, he'll text you."

"You're right," I left it alone for now and we went back to our peaceful quiet.

"Hey," he thought, "Let's go back to Cosmos tonight. What do you think about that?"

"I really don't feel like going out," I whined, "Do we have to?"

"No…"

Ring, ring!

"Guess who?" I checked my phone again. Victor's cute little face lit up my screen.

"Just turn your phone off," Mike took my phone away from me, "And how about the two of us have some more fun?"

My hips felt like they were going to fall off, but this was so damn addicting, "Fun sounds good."

And after another round, Mike sent me home. It really was getting late and I had no intentions of spending the day with Master, but I'm glad I did. My body felt like a noodle, but totally worth sending Gene home early. Now, for the rest of the night to myself. Maybe I'll turn on the hot tub, pour a glass of red, kick my feet up, and call it a night.

"WHERE THE HELL WERE YOU?!" Victor stood at my door, ready to beat the shit out of me.

"I went out," I put my key in the lock.

"No," he grabbed me by the wrist, "We need to talk and we need to talk now."

"Where the hell…?" I stumbled behind him, "Victor, what are we doing?"

"You just disappear!" Victor threw me on his couch, "You've been out every night for the past week partying! What is going on with you, Violet?"

"I'm just having a little fun," I shook him off, "What's so bad about that?"

"Tomorrow," he demanded, "Your ass is mine. I don't care what else you have going on. You. Are. Mine."

"Yes, sir." Now wasn't the time to piss him off any more. Usually, Victor's anger was so passive aggressive. I was waiting for him to break into Russian obscenities.

"Now, go back to your place," Victor started to get into that calm state of anger that got even scarier, "Go to bed."

"Yes, sir." I got up and started going home. I've seen Victor pissed, but never that pissed…

 **A/N: I'm soooooooo sorry this is up hella late. But we have angry Victor. We have tired Violet. And a Lumi that's really behind. But feel free to sound off and I'll answer any questions you may have. See you next chapter! xx**


	16. Twelve Step

I loved him to death, but I looked forward to seeing Victor like a hole in the head. To see him so pissed off at me last night and letting that anger stew overnight couldn't mean good things for Violet. He's going to tear me apart limb from limb. I knew it. I could feel it in the pit of my stomach. Or maybe that was my need for breakfast. I still had a box of those one protein bars that taste like an Almond Joy, right? I grabbed one on my way out the door.

Victor told me ten o'clock and gave Gene the morning off. I hope he called Madame, too. It's bad enough I'm on Victor's shit list and probably Celestino's, too. I don't need to be on hers, too. Madame loved me and I don't ever want that love to go away. Since before I was skating, Madame was more of a mother to me than my own mother and I don't know what I'd do without her in my life.

As I stood outside Chris and Victor's, I started pouring sweat. Relax, Violet. It's Victor. The most passive aggressive creature to ever exist. I'm sure last night is as bad as it's going to get. The rest of Victor's anger is just going to come out in extreme sass and snarky comments like it always did. Everything is going to be fine. At least I hope so.

"Victor?" I walked in, treading lightly.

"Good morning, Violet." Not the voice I was expecting, but the one I was glad to hear.

"Hey, Chris," I sat at the kitchen table with him

"My, my," Chris gave me a dark, little grin, "Violet Isabella, that's not a collar around your neck, is it?"

"Oops," I blushed, totally forgetting about the little token of ownership that Mike gave me yesterday. I'm surprised Victor didn't pick that out last night. Then again, I think he was a bit preoccupied with bitching at me to notice, "It might be."

"Alright." Because there was no way in hell Chris could possibly let me live this down, "Miss no detail. I want to know everything. Do you have a master, Violet?"

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, "For lack of a better word, I have a master."

"What's his name?" he asked, listening intently, "How'd you meet?"

"You were there when we met," I pointed out, "His name is Mike."

"Wait," Chris stopped me, "Is this Mike from Cosmos?"

"Do you know him?" I wondered.

"Oh yeah," he smirked, "I know Mike. I know Mike very well. Not to mention, you were talking to him while you were talking to me in your voicemail."

"You, too?" I squeaked, "Jesus, how big of a slut is this guy? Apparently, Willam's been with him. You've been with him. Should I ask him about how many other pets he's had before me?"

"I've never been his pet before," Chris settled me, "I can't speak for Willam, though."

"My god," I groaned, laying on the table top, "I'll have to ask sometime."

"Be careful, Violet," he warned, "I love you and don't want to see you get hurt. Mike and I only had a one-night thing, but I've heard some stories about him before. He gets very territorial over his pets. It's almost to the point where he may pee on you to claim you as his own. But you're already wearing his collar, so you should be ok. Do you have to wear that all the time?"

"Not this one," I undid the buckle and took it off, "I have a choker for everyday. This collar is for special occasions."

"And by special occasions..."

"Where's your husband?" I quickly changed the subject, not wanting to get into talking about my sex life with Chris. I'm sure he could one-up me all over the place.

"He should be coming out of the shower by now," he figured.

"And my boys?" The condo was suspiciously quiet.

"They're practicing with Celestino," Chris got up to top off his coffee, "Victor left Yuri in Celestino's capable hands, so he could take care of you."

"Chris..." Speak of the devil. Who figured today was a good day to come out of the bedroom in a towel and a smile. Yeah. I'm not complaining, "Who are you talking to out here?"

"It's just Violet," Chris admired the view just as much as I did.

"Hi," I snapped out of my schoolgirl haze real quick. Or should I say I was being crushed to a pulp by the gravity of the situation?

"Good," Victor sighed out, "You sit on the couch. We need to talk. I need to get dressed first. I'll be right back."

"I don't know, Vitya," Chris continued to drool over his husband, "I kind of like you like this."

"And that's why I'm getting dressed," Victor gave him a quick kiss before heading back to the bedroom.

"Playing hard to get is not nice," Chris whined, "Who would've guessed Victor Nikiforov was a huge tease?"

"I would!" he yelled from the bedroom.

"I love that man," Chris chuckled to himself, "Things seem like they're about to get serious here."

"They probably will," I moved to the couch.

"It is," Victor came back out, taking his spot on the coffee table in front of me.

"Well, if you need anything," Chris pulled up a spot at the bar in the kitchen, "You know where I'll be."

"Thanks, Chris," I grumbled, "The moral support is appreciated."

"Now," Victor turned my attention back toward him, "I'm going to need a play-by-play of everything you did last night, Violet. Do not miss anything. All I'm asking is your honesty."

"Fine," I let out a heavy sigh, feeling the collar in my pocket grow tighter. Victor got whiny when I told him I had a date with Yurio. God only knows what this is going to do to him, "I kind of started seeing someone."

"Really?" he gasped, not quite sure what to make of it, "Do tell. What's his name?"

"His name is Mike," I began, "He's a good guy. We met at a club."

"Is it serious with you two?" Victor wondered, while Christophe, God bless him, giggled in the kitchen. I loved him, but right now, punching him sounded like a good idea.

"Serious-ish," I danced around it.

"So," he thought, breaking his eye contact with me, "Is he the only one?"

"Jesus, Victor," I shook off my nerves, "You make me sound like I'm out whoring myself around. Yes. As of right now, I haven't been seeing anyone else but this one guy. I don't double book. You know that."

"See?" Victor joined me on the couch, wrapping his arms around me, "Was that so difficult? This is all I wanted, Violet. For you to talk to me about the things going on in your life. I miss you! I miss my best friend in the whole wide world! You don't have to go out and get stupid when I'm right under you."

"I know..."

"Then, why are you going out and getting stupid?" he yelled at me.

"Think about it, Victor," I settled him, "It's the first time I've been single in ages after staying home with the kids for so long. Can you blame me for wanting to run for a while? I just wanted a little bit of fun."

"Well," Victor hugged me tight, "As long as you're having fun responsibly, that's all I ask."

"I am having fun responsibly," I assured.

"The going out and getting shitfaced isn't responsible."

"The staying in and getting shitfaced is fine, though?" I hoped, "I like vodka. Don't make me give that up."

"Limit yourself," Victor begged, "Please. Maybe one or two a week. And never when you have practice the next day."

"Learned that lesson the hard way," I cringed, "Celestino asked me if I was hungover and I didn't have the heart to tell him I was."

"Well, this isn't getting anything done," he pushed himself up and offered me his hand, "Come on."

"Where are we going?" I gladly accepted his assistance.

"Retail therapy," Victor grabbed his phone and his wallet off the kitchen counter, giving his husband one last kiss, "We'll be back later."

"Alright," Chris let him go, "Go play."

"We will," I kissed his cheek and his husband took me away to wherever he had planned for the day. At this point, I just let Victor take the lead. Besides, it's not like I had much choice in the matter. Victor told me last night that he owned me. According to the collar burning a hole in my pocket, I'm sure that someone else would have something to say about that.

Although, I will admit. I missed shopping trips with Victor. They were always a blast. Sometimes, we'd shop for each other. Sometimes, Victor would shove me in a dressing room and not let me have any say in anything. Sometimes, we'd shop for ourselves. It was merely a throw of the dice whenever we walked into a store. And New York did not have a shortage of specialty boutiques or big, beautiful department stores. But for now, we picked a cute, little boutique on the Upper East Side full of summer dresses that I'd desperately need in the next couple months.

"You know the drill, Vi," Victor decided, "Pick a dressing room and make yourself comfortable."

"Really?" I whined, "I can't, at least, help you look?"

"What did I say?" he shot me a glare, "Your ass is mine today. I do with it what I wish."

Hard to argue with that logic. Considering how screwed up my own has been. I wasn't in the mood to get into an argument with Victor today. Son of a bitch could get crafty with his words. So, I did exactly as he told me. I picked the dressing room closest to the door and waited for whatever saccharine crap Victor wanted to dress me in. However, he had a hell of a grasp on what I was and wasn't comfortable with and how far he could push me.

Ten minutes later, seemingly out of nowhere, an armful of different pastel colored skater dresses flopped over the door of my dressing room, giving me a mini heart attack, "Jesus, Victor. Did you leave anything on the rack?"

"Nope!" Victor sang, "You're leaving here with three of them."

"Ok," I thumbed through them, deciding which one to try first. The whole damn rainbow was here. Only in lighter tones. Some of these would make me look adorable on the ice, but none of them were practical enough to skate in. I settled on the pink, the purple, and the blue ones and left the green and the peach behind. Never really my colors. Victor did have taste. I'll give him that.

Two stores, eight hundred dollars, and a split pretzel later, Victor and I thumbed through a rack in yet another boutique (he had a weakness), looking for something for me to wear tonight. I still had to go to Gene's tonight for dinner. I owed him for not telling Victor about him putting my wickedly drunk ass on the couch. I didn't want anything overly elaborate and Victor knew that. That was never my thing. Unless it was the Lady Marmalade routine, but that was because Ernie was gross.

"So, Violet," Victor asked, "This new guy you've been seeing."

Son of a bitch. Here we go, "What about him?"

"Could I ever meet him?"

"I don't know," I bit my lip, "It's still pretty early in the relationship right now. Not to mention, think about it. If you and I got divorced under regular circumstances and you met someone new that wasn't someone we already knew, how awkward would it be to introduce your ex-wife to your new boyfriend? Same principle."

"I understand," Victor let it go, "But if things do get serious with you two…"

"Then, we'll talk about it," I allowed, not completely sure how far in the future I've thought with Mike. That's not an existential rabbit hole I wanted to go down today.

"Violet…?" Oh…shit…That's what I was needing today. A pair of arms wrapped themselves around my waist, "Hi there."

"Hey," the heat in my face burned, "What are you doing here?"

"I saw something cute in the window," he hummed.

"And what's that?" As if I didn't know.

"You, of course," he kissed the top of my head.

"Violet?" Victor wondered, "Who's this?"

"You know her?" Uh-oh…This is what Chris warned me about, isn't it?

"I'd say so," Victor looked him over.

"Mike," I bit my tongue, "This is Victor. Victor, this is Mike."

I'm uncomfortable. Am I the only one? I'm very uncomfortable.

"That Mike?" Victor asked.

"That Victor?" Mike's eyes grew wider.

"Yep." This is hella uncomfortable.

After a few minutes of dead silence that made my skin crawl, Mike tapped on my shoulder, "Violet, can I see you for a minute?"

"Sure," I followed him a few feet away from Victor, "What is it?"

"Is that your ex-husband?" Mike grumbled.

"Yeah," I nodded, "Why?"

"You still hang around your ex-husband?" he only got angrier.

"Yeah," I tried to get him to settle down, "Our marriage was a long story. I'll tell you later."

"What are you doing later?" Mike let out a heavy, exasperated sigh.

"I have a dinner thing," I told him, "Why?"

"After your dinner thing," he demanded, "I want you to come over to my penthouse and I think we need to have our first sleepover."

"Ok," I wasn't going to fight him. Mike was pissed at me and I didn't need that, "I should be around your place at maybe nine, ten o'clock?"

"Good," Mike gave me a gentle kiss, "I'm greatly looking forward to it."

"Yes, sir," I started walking back to Victor.

"Well," Mike followed, "It was nice meeting you, Victor."

"You, too," Victor put on a sweet, polite smile that only Victor was capable of.

"I'll see you later, Violet," Mike gave me a wink that sent chills down my spine and left the two of us alone.

"He's cute, Vi," Victor went back to the rack absentmindedly, "Good for you."

I felt a delightful pit in my stomach, ready for anything Mike had to throw at me tonight. Don't get me wrong. It was really sweet for Gene to invite me over tonight, but there's no way I'm going to be able to sit still at that dinner table.

 **A/N: Goooooood gravy, this chapter is up really late. I'm sorry. But Victor's still got a sunny outlook. Good for him. And he thinks Mike is cute. What the hell is with people and Mike? Is he really that much of a drug in a human being? That's even making my head hurt and I'm the one that wrote him! Well, regardless, I'm a tired little girl and I'm going to go to bed. So, good night. And I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	17. Coming Back to Earth

It was getting to be that time of the day again. That time when I usually send Gene home and mix myself a drink. However, tonight would be different. I had a debt to settle. Gene had been one hell of a dude since he's been with me. That includes going above and beyond the call of duty. He carried my drunk ass to the couch and fed a line of bullshit to my overly protective ex-husband for me. Gene is a good man. He may also be blackmailing me into having dinner with his family, but how bad could this be?

I looked in my closet for something a little more family friendly. I mean, I know I look cute in a crop top, but first impressions and all that. I put on a longer shirt and a slightly longer skirt. Leggings? Maybe leggings? I had a pair of black ones covered in glitter that I got when I went shopping with Victor today. Glitter can't hurt anything. And they look cute under a while skirt. Hot damn, I looked cute!

"Hey, Vi," Gene called out from my living room, "Are you ready yet? I just got a text from my wife and she wants to know when we'll be there."

"Just about," I finished the sharp wing on my right eye. Usually, Victor would do this for me, but I didn't need to bother him. I did need a few Q-tips to clean it up, but I didn't do half bad. I put my heels on and walked out to the living room, "Well? Do I look ok?"

"Adorable as always," he gave me a spin, "Ready?"

"Yep," I pulled the charger out of my phone and threw it in my bag. I was totally flying blind tonight. It was sweet of Gene to invite me to dinner, but I'm not sure how this is going to work, if it would at all. Relax, Violet. If all else fails, you have your mini flask in your purse. Just a little something, something to take the edge off. It'll be nothing to excuse yourself from the table, slip into the bathroom, and do a quick emergency shot. Everything'll be fine.

When we got to Gene's house, I took a quick look around. A nice, little townhouse in Brooklyn. Nothing overly extravagant, but it's cute. I like it. Nearest bathroom looked to be just down the hall under the stairs. The dining room to the left. The living room to the left. I'm guessing the kitchen was just off the dining room. Amidst this concrete jungle, this little townhouse in Brooklyn truly felt like a home.

"Sonia!" Gene called out, "I'm home!"

"Daddy!" a dark haired little girl bolted down the stairs, jumping into Gene's arms.

"Sophie!" he hugged her tight, "Hey, princess!"

It's safe to say I already loved her. She reminded me a lot of Yuri. I don't know why, but something about her reminded me of Yuri. Sophie looked over at me, "Who is she, Daddy?"

"This is Violet," Gene introduced me, bouncing his daughter on his hip, "She's a friend of mine from work. Violet, this is Sophie. You know all about her."

"Yeah," I awed, my insides turning to mush, "Hi, Sophie."

She buried her face in her daddy's shoulder, playing shy. Ok. It's very safe to say I adored her. It's too bad I couldn't bring the boys over. I'm sure Chris and Victor wouldn't have had a problem with it, but like I said, I didn't need to bother them. Maybe next time. Or I'll invite everyone to my place. After the season's over and I have a better gauge of where things are at with Mike, if that's even anything over casual.

"It's alright, peanut," he assured her, "Violet's good people. When she wants to be."

"Thank you, Gene," I grumbled sarcastically, "There's nothing I love more than a backhanded compliment."

"That's what I'm here for," Gene beamed, "Sonia, I'm home!"

"I'm taking food out of the oven!" a husky voice called back, "Hold on!"

"Hey, Soph," Gene put the little angel in his arms down on the floor, "Why don't you go help Mommy in the kitchen, ok?"

"Ok!" And just like that, Sophie ran off to find her mom. I want to keep her in my pocket forever.

"Light of my life, that little girl," Gene gushed.

"I know the feeling," my heart ached a bit. I missed my boys. It feels like ages since I last saw them, but they're both just a floor away. I needed to spend some time with Yurio again like we did last weekend. But with Chris and Victor leaving for Malta in a couple days, I'll have a whole week with those two. And I couldn't wait.

"You know, Vi," he suggested, "Next time we do this, you should bring Victor and Chris and Yuri and Yurio with you. I mean, we'd have to plan it a week in advance and line it up on a day when both Sonia and me have a day off, but it sounds like it'd be a hell of a time."

"I was thinking the same thing," I agreed, "But what about doing it at my place instead? God knows I have the room and the culinary skills to pull something like that off."

"I don't know about that," Gene smirked, "You've never seen Sonia and me in a kitchen together. We work like a well-oiled machine. She cooks, I bake. We balance each other out."

"Sounds like the way Victor and I were," I giggled, feeling for the flask in my bag, "When we were both off for the season and we make pirozhkis together, it's a tornado, but it works."

"Alright," a striking, dark haired woman came out of the dining room, "Dinner's out of the oven. It needs to rest a few minutes. I'm exhausted."

"Sorry we're late, baby," Gene gave her a warm, welcoming kiss, "Traffic was a bitch."

"I don't doubt it," she chuckled, setting her big, brown eyes on me, "You have to be Violet."

"Yeah," I smiled, "That's me."

"It is so nice to finally meet you!" she hugged me tight, "I'm Sonia. Gene's told me so much about you."

"It's nice to meet you, too." This is awkward. I didn't know a thing about Gene's wife. I've heard all about Sophie, but I don't think Gene's ever talked about Sonia before. If he did, I was either drunk or half asleep. Although, I have a feeling that the two of us are going to become fast friends, whether I wanted to or not.

"Come on," Sonia invited me in, "I got a bottle of merlot on ice. You wouldn't want any, would you?"

"Absolutely," I nodded, perhaps a bit too eagerly. Gene gave me a little nudge in the back. Once his wife was out of earshot, I looked over at him, "What was that all about?"

"You really think you should be drinking?" Gene worried, "Your drinking was what got you here in the first place."

"Yeah," I rolled my eyes, "Thanks, Dad. It's merlot, not absinthe and melon midori. I think I'll be fine. It'll be one glass. Two, tops. Relax."

"Alright," he let it go, "Go ahead. Pick a spot at the table. Boys! Dinner's done!"

A thunderous stampede of footsteps rumbled down the stairs as two young boys, the spitting image of their father, ran into the dining room. One shoved the other out of the way, trying to see which one can sit down first. The bigger one of the two declared himself the winner. Gee. A pair of brothers that are hostilely competitive with each other? Where have I heard that before?

"Who are you?" the smaller one of the two scoffed insolently.

"She's cute, Dad," the bigger one, who couldn't have been much older than thirteen, winked at me. I'm uncomfortable.

"Boys!" Sonia came in with a casserole dish in her arms, "You were both raised better. Apologize."

"Sorry..."

"Sorry..."

They both sat down with their heads hung in shame while Sonia put down the most incredible smelling manicotti I've set my eyes on in a very long time, "Please forgive them, Violet. Sometimes, their mouths operate faster than their brains."

"Forgiven and forgotten," I let it slide, trying not to drool on myself, "That looks magical."

"My grandma made a killer manicotti," Sonia boasted, "Before she died, she shared the recipe with me. I'm the only one in the world that's got it and it burns my mom's ass to no end. If I were to tell her, Grandma would come back to haunt me."

"I haven't had a good manicotti in so long," I groaned, "I spent a summer in Italy with my coach's mom while I was sick and I've never eaten so much in my life."

"Old Italian women are the best," Gene agreed, "Sonia's grandma was a peach. Right off the boat from Italy. She grew up in Tuscany."

"I couldn't imagine."

"By the way," Gene made more introductions, "The little lug head is Wesley. The big lug head is Grant. They're getting to be that age..."

"I got two boys, Gene," I reminded him, "I know Yuri and Yurio are a little different, but honestly, at their cores, they're the same. And to answer your question, guys, I'm a friend of your dad's. Not to mention, I'm currently taken and I have kids that are just a little younger than you, so there's no way that would ever happen."

"You have kids, Violet?" Sonia gasped, shuffling plates around the table, "You're practically a baby yourself."

"I adopted," I explained, "And I love them as if they were biologically my own."

"If you don't mind me asking," she tiptoed, "Why didn't you ever have any of your own?"

"Because my husband at the time wasn't..." I thought how to phrase this for a second. There were small children present. I'm sure the oldest has had the talk, but I didn't need to make that weird, "My ex-husband is gay and I wasn't doing the artificial thing, so instead, we adopted our sons and we've been our cute, little, dysfunctional family ever since. The adoption laws in Russia are weird and they were more likely to allow a couple to adopt. It's kind of complicated."

"I understand," Sonia finished cutting up Sophie's plate for her while Grant and Wesley tore their plates apart themselves.

I took my first bite and I could see where they were coming from, "I may have to come over for dinner more often."

"Told you," she grinned proudly, "Grandma's manicotti never disappoints."

"Not as good as Mama Cialdini's," I clarified, "But if I said anything was better than Mama Cialdini, she's hunt me down and kill me."

"I'd love to go back to Italy," Sonia groaned, "We haven't been since our honeymoon."

"My ex-husband and his current husband are going to Malta this weekend for theirs," I told her, "And I'm sure I'm going to be back in Italy come October."

"What for?" she wondered.

"I'm a professional figure skater," I explained, "I'm sure I'll have to go there for competition. And to see my coach's mom. She's adorable."

"I want to go ice skating, too," Sophie chimed in.

"I think all the rinks are closed for the night, sweetheart," I figured, "But when I was still living in Russia, I got in good with one of the owners and he gave me a key to the place. That way, I could skate whenever I wanted to."

"Yeah," Gene teased, "Because your husband being a six-time gold medalist had nothing to do with it."

"Hey!" I squeaked, "I have gold medals, too!"

"How many?"

"A couple," I stood my ground, "You saw me at practice the other day, Gene. You know how good I am."

"She is pretty good," he admitted.

"Violet," Sophie pulled at my skirt, "Will you take me ice skating?"

"Any time," I promised, "Whenever I'm not at practice or my dance lessons, I'll be more than happy to take you with me."

"Tell you what, puddin'," Gene bargained, "Next time Violet's got practice, you can come to work with me and watch."

"And if you ask Celestino first," I added, "He can get kind of persnickety when I have an audience."

"There's no way Celestino could say no," he shot his baby girl a wink, "She's cute as a button. He'd turn to butter with her."

"Oh yeah," I confirmed, "He's been that way with Yuri and Yurio since the day they came home."

Bzzz...

I looked down at my phone in my lap and saw the goofiest picture I had of Victor staring back at me. Oh, New Years...We will never forget the night Victor had a bright red pair of my panties on his head, pretending to be a superhero called Ass Man. In his defense, we were all pretty drunk that night and Celestino was watching the boys. Good times...

"What's that?" Gene asked.

"Hold on," I excused myself, "Sorry. I have to take this."

"Go ahead," he allowed as I got up from the table.

I snuck around the corner near the under stairs bathroom and slid my finger across my phone screen, "Hello?"

"Hi, Violet," Victor chimed on the other end, "Where are you right now? I just checked your condo and the only one there is Nadya."

"Did you feed her?" I asked, "I forgot to put a cup of food in her bowl before I left."

"I can," he assured, "But seriously. Where are you?"

"I'm at Gene's," I settled him, "He invited me over for dinner a couple days ago and here we are."

"Oh," Victor sounded like I just took all the wind out of his sails, "I was going to ask you if you wanted to come to our place, but if you already had plans...Wait, Violet, are you really at Gene's or did you sneak off to the strip club?"

"I'm really at Gene's," I rolled my eyes, "And Cosmos isn't a strip club. Although, if you wait around long enough, you'll likely see someone naked. Do you hear loud techno?"

"No."

"I'm at Gene's," I swore.

"Ok," he let me go, "Are you coming home tonight?"

"Most likely," I bit the inside of my cheek, "Unless something comes up, but chances are, I'll be home tonight. Besides, I have practice in the morning and if I blow this one off, Celestino will kick my ass personally. I'll take a raincheck on coming over, though."

"Good," Victor chirped, "Well, I shouldn't keep you. Send Gene my love and I'll see you later."

"I will."

"Love you!"

Click.

Have I ever mentioned how much I love that man? No matter how scatterbrained or over protective he is of me? Because I do. With all my heart. And no one could ever replace him in my eyes. Victor was in a class all his own. However, not a minute after I hung up with him, my phone buzzed yet again. This time, with a text message

 _Where are you?_

 _-M_

 _Having dinner with my bodyguard._

 _-VP_

I turned my phone screen off and sat back down, "Sorry. Victor."

"Is everything alright?" Gene worried, "The boys are good? Victor's in one piece? Chris is in one piece?"

"Yeah," I brushed him off, "Everything's cool."

Bzzz...

I glanced down at my lap.

 _Dessert at my place? ;)_

 _-M_

I bit down hard on my tongue to keep myself under control. But food was already making me feel like taking a nap. I don't think I could handle another...session...with Master right now. Even though I knew it was going to piss him off, I had to stand up for myself.

 _Not tonight._

 _It's been a long day and I'm exhausted._

 _-VP_

"So," Sonia asked, "What did he want?"

"Just checking in," I took my last couple bites.

Bzzz...

Dammit, Mike. Not tonight. I'm tired and I got practice in the morning.

 _Sleepover?_

 _-M_

Sleepover, huh? Because I didn't know what that really meant. Come on, Mike. Give me a little more credit than that. Your pet is pretty smart. But I really shouldn't go to his penthouse tonight. I did need to rest up. Besides, there'd be way too much temptation there. It'd be like a mine field.

 _Just sleep?_

 _-VP_

Bzz.

 _Yes._

 _-M_

I thought it over for a second. Did I really want to? Of course. There's nothing wrong with getting the rocks off, but Mike had me testing the limits of my flexibility. Sure, it'd probably do wonders for me when I have to do the perfect splits both in the air and on the ice. It'd be something that's seldom seen. I don't know. I'm still torn. I told Victor I'd likely be home tonight, too. I don't want him freaking out, wondering where the hell I am.

 _We'll see._

 _-VP_

I put my phone back in my bag and left it alone. Where were we? Sophie, rink, "Maybe in a couple days, ok, Sophie? I'll talk to Celestino tomorrow and I'll let you know then if you can come practice with me."

"Yay!" Sophie squealed, lighting up like a Christmas tree.

"You really think you can swing that, Violet?" Sonia thought, "We wouldn't want to impose like that."

"It's no imposition," I assured, "Sophie wouldn't be the only one to have Celestino instantly wrapped around her little finger. He's already wound pretty tight around mine. He'd do anything for me."

"It's true," Gene agreed, "I've seen it firsthand."

"Now," I finished my wine, "I really should be going. If I'm seeing Celestino tomorrow, I'm going to have to suck up and showing up on time can't hurt."

"Going already?" Sonia awed, "It feels like you just got here."

"I know," I rubbed my eye gently, making sure not to smear my eyeliner, "But I got a long day tomorrow. I should be getting to bed soon."

Sophie wrapped herself around my leg, "Don't go, Violet."

"She really has taken quite a shine to you," Gene smiled.

"Don't worry, Sophie," I promised, "I'll be back."

"Ok," she still didn't want to let go.

"Hey," I lifted her chin up, "We'll be going skating together soon. And if we're lucky, I'll see if I can get my boys in on it, too. I'm sure they're back in the swing of things."

"Ok…" Sophie gave me one last hug goodbye, "I'll miss you, Violet."

"I'll miss you, too, Sophie," I sent her off.

"You really can't stay just a little longer, Vi?" Sonia begged.

"Hard to tell where Sophie gets it from," I teased, "But yes. I need to get some sleep. That's one of those things I've been kind of neglecting lately."

"Fine," she hugged me tight, "It was really nice meeting you, though."

"You, too, Sonia," I couldn't hold back a smile if I wanted to, "Thank you for tonight. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't sorely needed."

"Any time you need to come back," Sonia promised, "You are more than welcome."

"When it's not being used as blackmail," I stuck my tongue out at her husband, "My place next time."

"Alright," Gene shooed me out the door, "Night, Vi."

"Night, Gene." And just like that, I turned on my heel and started heading for the nearest empty cab. It was time for little Violets to go to bed. But which bed does little Violet want to go to? I loved my own bed and there really was no place like home. But then, there was Mike. Not only would I get a wickedly comfortable bed, but I wouldn't have to sleep alone. Decisions, decisions.

"Where to?" the driver asked.

Where to, indeed, friend. Where to…I knew where to, "Uptown, please. The Rochester building."

"Nice place," he praised, "What's a girl like you doing there?"

"Going to bed, if it's all the same to you." Like it was any of his business.

I gave him his fare and headed up to the top of the building. The only thing I could think about right now was that giant bed that was going to swallow me whole. So nice to sleep on. So nice to nap on. Right after a big meal and a couple glasses of wine, it's all I wanted. I've had days of full on, balls to the wall practice that have worn me out less. Maybe all the sleep deprivation I used to be able to take is starting to take its toll.

Knock, knock.

"Well, well," a warm voice hummed on the other side of the door, "Look who came back."

"I'm really tired, Master," I laid my head on his shoulder.

Mike looked me over, "Tired, huh?"

"Uh-huh…" I turned on the innocence. Something in his tone sounded kind of pissed. Was it because I was in no condition to put out tonight? Or the more likely scenario, he's pissed that I'm still hanging around my ex. But Victor and I had more history than just our marriage. Maybe if I up my cuteness, it'll soften the blow.

"Well then," Mike scooped me up into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on my forehead, "Let's get you to bed, shall we?"

Or maybe I was just overreacting. The way he held me in bed damn near knocked me out right on the spot. I curled into his embrace and shut my eyes. It made me wonder how things are going to be when I have to go on the road again and I'm out of the country.

 **A/N: So…Violet's crashing at Mike's. Dinner at Gene's was a success. Sophie is downright precious and has become Violet's little buddy. Now, before I go, I want to run something by you guys. Since you're all here from Adopted (If you haven't read Adopted by now…Why are you even here?), do you remember when I did the Victor chapters? Well, I really want to do another Victor chapter and I have a hell of an idea for one and I think I might do that next week. Either next week or week after. Would that be something you're cool with? Would you be into that? Either way, see you next chapter! xx**


	18. Putting the Pieces Back Together

**A/N: Hi, guys! So, I think I asked you this last week, if it was cool that I did a chapter or two from Victor's perspective like I did in Adopted (I miss Adopted…I miss those days…When things were still pure.). To no surprise, I've gotten approval. So, friends, here we are. It's a Victor chapter this week. If you're one of the weirdos that aren't too big on when I switch up the perspective, we'll resume to our regularly scheduled programming next week. But for those of us that love the occasional peek into Victor's day to day life when Violet's not around, let's continue on, shall we?**

I see she came in early this morning. Again. What could Violet possibly be doing coming back home at seven o'clock in the morning? Hard night, maybe? Things weren't like they were when we lived in St. Petersburg. She couldn't go down to our practice rink in the middle of the night when she can't sleep. I doubt Violet even slept at her place last night. That is, if she slept at all. Between her hair being an absolute mess and her carrying her shoes, I couldn't pick a better poster child for a walk of shame.

Regardless, I couldn't worry about her right now. I still had two little boys to wake up and get to their practices. Let's see...Yurio does dance lessons, then skating practice, right? That sounded right. Waking him was never an easy thing for me. That was usually a Violet job. She had a natural talent for it, but I was getting better. And the oven mitts were for my protection. I said I was getting better, but that doesn't mean Yurio doesn't still bite.

"Yurio," I tiptoed into his bedroom and spoke softly to him, "It's time to wake up. You have a big day ahead of you. Before you know it, it'll be time for competition. But before you enter any sort of competition, you have to wake up."

"I don't want to," Yurio grumbled into his pillows, lazily reaching over to find one to throw at me, "Come back in twenty minutes. And I'm not Yuri. That early morning motivation line isn't going to work on me."

"Come on, Yurio," I sat at the edge of his bed, bringing his pillow back, "You have to wake up."

"Why?"

"Because," I had one ace in the hole. The one bluff I knew he would never call. Mostly because of the consequence, "If you don't get up, I'll have to have Mama come here and get you up."

"I miss Mama," Yurio started coming around, "Get her."

At least I never thought he'd call my bluff. I had no idea what kind of shape she was in from last night. By the looks of her, she was still out of it and odds are, she's going back to bed. Dammit, Yurio. You weren't supposed to want her to come over, but I understood where he was coming from, "I miss her, too. But I don't think she's even awake yet. Besides, you'll probably see her a lot next week."

"Good," he rolled back over, attempting to go back to sleep.

"No," I pulled him back, "Wake up, Yurio."

Bite.

There it is. It's a good thing I did get the oven mitts. Yurio's jaw strength was incredible. He took a few more chews on the oven mitt, "It tastes different than usual."

"Does it?" I wondered, trying to think of what it could possibly be, "Uncle Chris might have done laundry and threw them in. And unless you want him to come and get you out of bed, you'll do it now."

"FINE!" he snarled, getting out of bed on his own, "That was low, Victor. Not cool."

"Uncle Chris loves you and you know it."

"Yeah," Yurio scoffed, shuffling toward the bathroom, "A little too much. It's nauseating."

Oh, Yurio...So angry, but so precious. Like a chihuahua. But now that he was situated, I had one more stop to make for the morning. Just across the hall slept a lovable little piggy that melted my heart every time he woke up. Sometimes, this was the best part of my day. I slipped into Yuri's bedroom and sat on his bed with him. This boy wouldn't want to move much either, but at least he was easier than his brother.

"Yuri," I held a gentle tone with him, turning into a puddle when he curled up on my thigh, "I know you're tired, but you need to get up. We have work to do."

"Ok, Daddy," Yuri mashed his fist in his eye, slowly coming to. He blinked a few times and looked down at my hands, "Daddy, why are you wearing oven mitts?"

"Because your little brother gets scrappy in the morning," I giggled, helping Yuri out of bed, "You know that."

"What are the oven mitts going to do?"

"If he bites hard enough," I explained, getting his glasses down from his dresser, "He'll break the skin and I'm not in the mood for a tetanus shot today."

"Oh." Bless you for being so simple, Yuri.

Alright. I had my boys taken care of. They were more than capable of getting themselves ready. Now, I could stand some coffee. Coffee sounded like a damn good idea. I turned the pot on in the kitchen and got my usual cup. Nothing too extravagant. If I remember correctly, Violet got this for me a long time ago. I want to say we were in Ger...man...y...? Maybe? Berlin? Could've been. Good times...

"Good morning," a familiar kiss made its way to my neck.

"Morning," I smiled a bit. Chris always knew, didn't he?

"Are you alright, Vitya?" he jumped up onto the counter, "You seem off."

"It's nothing," I shook him off, "What's today?"

"Friday, I think," Chris took his own cup from the cabinet, "One more day before Malta. Anything we need to get done?"

"I think we're good," I ran over the checklist in my head. Our bags were packed. The boys were taken care of. Makkachin would be taken care of. We had our tickets. One final thing popped into my head, "I have an appointment today. You don't have anything going on, do you?"

"I have to get to practice," he jumped down, filling his coffee halfway, leaving room for his creamer, "Why?"

"Damn," I grabbed my phone off the counter, "I can't do Yuri's practice today and he needs to get a leg up now if he's going to get another gold this year."

"You worry too much," Chris pulled me to his chest, doing his best to calm me down, "Yuri will be fine. He has an excellent coach and a better father that believes in him when he can't believe in himself."

"But his coach is going to have to miss a practice," I scrolled through my contacts, getting to the C's.

"Victor?" a thick, Italian accent barked on the other end, "Is everything alright?"

"Yeah," I assured, "Celestino, I need a favor."

"Of course," Celestino agreed, "What do you need?"

"Can you take Yuri today?" I asked, "Just for practice. I can get him to his dance lessons, but I have an appointment today that I completely spaced and I can't miss it."

"It's fine, Victor," he assured, "I can take Yuri. That's no problem. Besides, what harm could it do to have him practicing with Yurio?"

"Yurio's a little hostile this morning," I warned him, "Be careful."

"I know how to work him, too," Celestino chuckled, "Relax. Go to your appointment."

"Thank you, Celestino," I took a heavy sip from my coffee cup, "You're a lifesaver."

"Just out of curiosity," he wondered, "Why are you asking me, not Violet?"

"We talked about this," I grabbed a seat at the table, "Violet, as much as I love her, is in no shape to coach. She's got herself to worry about right now. Any more on her plate and she'd burn out fast. I'd love for her to take care of Yuri and Yurio, but she's stretched thin enough."

"You underestimate her," Celestino argued, "Violet can be pretty tough. But right now, I understand your apprehension. She'll probably be juggling their practices next week anyway, right?"

"Yeah..." I bit my lip, "But thank you for taking them both. Really, I appreciate it."

"It's no problem," he promised, "I should be there shortly."

"Ok," I nodded, "See you soon."

"Bye."

Click.

Good. That's taken care of now. One less thing to worry about. This is why I liked having Celestino around. For the days when I can't coach Yuri like today. I did have an appointment to get to, though. Once the boys were ready to go, the four of us went out into the hall and started heading downstairs. However, on the way out, we ran into someone I didn't expect to see so early.

"Morning, Victor," Violet came down the hall with us, "Chris, Yuri, Yurio."

"Mama!" Yurio didn't hesitate. He jumped right into his Mama's arms.

"Mama!" Yuri wrapped himself around her leg. I guess those boys did miss her.

"Hi, babies!" Violet hugged them tight. Strange. When I saw her this morning when I came back from the gym, she looked like death warmed over. Now, she was so...put together. Was I just imagining things? No. There's no way. Violet, as much as I loved her and as adorable as she is, looked like absolute shit this morning. I've always heard about vitamin B being good for hangovers, but I never knew it to be so instant, "Where are we off to this morning?"

"Practice," I told her, "What about you?"

"Dance lesson," she reported, "If I'm late, Madame would kill me. She's already pissed that I missed one yesterday. Victor..."

"So, I wanted to hang out with my best friend yesterday morning," I shrugged, "Sue me. I cleared it with Madame first and she told me she was fine with it."

"Well," Violet threw her bag over her shoulder, "She's probably going to work me twice as hard now. Thank you very much."

"Blaming me, are we?" I glared, "Do you remember why we had to have yesterday morning?"

"What happened, Mama?" Yurio asked, laying his head on her shoulder, almost going back to sleep.

"Don't worry about it, Yurio," I stopped him before Violet could say anything.

"Is it because of Mama's new boyfriend?" Oh, out of the mouths of babes...

"Mama's got a new boyfriend?" Yuri squeaked, "Since when?"

"He's not my boyfriend," Violet clarified, "The man you saw the other day is just a friend of mine, Yurio. He's not involved in this."

"Mama's just been a little overworked lately," I covered, not needing to see Violet get cornered by our boys, "Nothing to worry about."

"By the way, Violet," Chris chimed in, a dirty grin on his face, "That's a very pretty choker you're wearing."

"Oh," Violet turned bright red, "Thanks. It was a present."

"Was it now?" He knew something. He only got that look when he knew more than he was letting on. And with Violet blushing so hard, it made me curious, "Whoever gave it to you has good taste."

"I should be going," she swept everything under the rug, "See you later, guys."

The boys ran ahead to catch up with Violet and I pulled Chris aside, "What do you know?"

"Me?" he couldn't wipe that smile off his face, "Whatever do you mean, Victor? What would I know?"

"Christophe," I scolded him, "Tell me. You know something. Don't try to hide it. What's going on with Violet that I don't know about?"

"Oh, Victor," Chris held my hand, "Have you never heard that ignorance is bliss?"

"Christophe..."

"Isn't that something you should be asking Violet, not me?" he wondered, "I thought you two were best friends. Like, the kind that stay up late during slumber parties and all that."

"Christophe..." If we were any closer to a window, he'd be pushed out of it.

"Alright, alright," Chris caved, "I'll tell you, but don't tell Violet I told you."

"Swear."

"I'm assuming she's told you about Mike," he began.

"Yeah," I nodded, "I actually met him yesterday."

"Really?" Chris beamed, "And what did you think about him?"

"Good looking man," I thought, "Seemed like a decent person. Obviously likes Violet. I don't think he'd treat her badly."

"Oh, Victor, Victor, Victor..." he blushed, "If you only knew."

"Get on with it!" my patience wore thinner.

"She hasn't called him her boyfriend, has she?" Chris asked.

"No," I shook my head, "Not yet anyway."

"How did she say they met?"

"Met him at a club," I remembered, "You were there when she told me!"

"I know," he nodded, "But I want to hear you say it."

"What does that have to do with anything?" I rolled my eyes, "I'm failing to see the connection here, Chris. If you could fill in the blanks here, I'd really appreciate it."

"Mike isn't the type to do a serious relationship," Chris explained, "He's usually a one-night stand type. Although, once in a while, something comes across his field of vision that he wants to hold onto for a while. Whether it's because they're attractive or they had an emotional connection or they're fantastic in bed or whatever the reason."

"Wait a minute," I cut him off, "How do you know him?"

"That's a tale for another day," he went on, "But another thing about Mike. What's something you noticed about his personality?"

"Well..." I thought back, "He did say he wanted to talk to Violet privately. Private person?"

"You would think," Chris had a spark of mischief in his eyes, "But no. It's more...territorial than private."

"What do you mean?" I felt a knot start taking shape in my stomach. Tell me Violet didn't do something stupid...My Violet is too smart for that.

"That choker around her neck," he pointed out, "That's not just any choker. I bet my next winnings check that Mike gave her that."

"What makes you say that?"

"You didn't catch her in the collar yesterday, did you?" Chris grinned.

Dammit...She did. I still continued to play ignorant, "No. Why would she be in a collar?"

"Oh, Vitya," he pulled me to his hip, "You're so lucky you're so pretty sometimes. Do you know why she won't call him her boyfriend? Because he's not her boyfriend. He's her dom. That choker is a more casual sign of his ownership. It's kind of like a wedding ring, but with kinkier connotations. Violet's more of a minx than we give her credit for. And if Mike's keeping her around, she's taken to submission like a duck to water."

Dammit, Violet. You've always been so independent. Why now? Why would you do something like this? I know you've been a little fragile lately, but to bend so easily to someone else's whims like this? That would explain some things. The late nights, her trips to Cosmos (where I'm guessing is where she met Mike), why she's been drinking so much lately. She's using him as a crutch and he's sucking it all up like a sponge.

"He..." I turned very quiet, "He wouldn't make her do anything too dangerous, would he?"

"No," Chris assured, "Mike's activities are usually pretty tame. As long as she behaves herself, things should go pretty smoothly."

If she behaves herself...Violet's mouth has gotten her in trouble a time or two before. There's no telling what would set this guy off. And with her high-risk career back in full swing, if he laid a hand on her in a way the rest of us would likely kill him over, there'd be no way to tell what was from her falling from skating or what was because of him. No. I'm overthinking this. From what I understood, he's not going to hurt her unless she asks for it. Or, in this case, begs. But I don't see Violet as the masochistic type. Then again, I never thought she'd ever do something like this, yet here we are.

I split off from Chris and the boys and started heading uptown. I still had an appointment to keep. I walked into a very nicely decorated office that I've seen the walls of a dozen times before and waited for this meeting to get underway. It made this a hell of a lot easier that the beautiful woman I was here to see looked a lot like Violet did after her first year in Russia with me. Long, soft, brown hair, legs for days, a little bit of an attitude that kept everyone on their toes...I missed those days.

"Hello, Victor," her soft, sweet voice chimed.

"Hello, Morgan," I smiled, "Always lovely to see you."

"It's too bad we had to meet under these circumstances," Morgan admitted, "But we're not here to talk about that. How are you?"

"Well..." my facade broke, "Not as good as what I'd like them to be."

"Let me guess," she assumed, "Violet?"

"Yeah," I let out a heavy sigh, "Violet. I did give her your number, though. I hope that's ok."

"That's fine," Morgan allowed, "Now, what seems to be the problem? Is your relationship with her on the rocks?"

"In a way," I confessed, "She's been going off the rails lately. She's been drinking herself stupid. She's out late every night. This morning, I came back from the gym in my building and saw her going into her condo at seven o'clock looking like she had been through the wringer. And now, I just found out about the guy she's seeing being a dominant type. I'm...I'm worried about her. I don't want her to get hurt, you know?"

"I understand," she nodded, "And what about you? What's going on in your life?"

"Chris and I are leaving for Malta tomorrow morning," I started to settle down a bit.

"And you're going to leave Yuri and Yurio with Violet, right?"

"Well," I bit my lip, "With the way she's been lately, I'm thinking about leaving them with Celestino instead. I know Violet is fully capable of taking care of the boys. I have no doubt in my mind. But given what I found out this morning and with Violet's head being on a little crooked these days, I'm torn. For now, I don't want Mike around my boys. Yurio has apparently met him, but it was only brief. They're still young and they don't need to see that. It's bad enough they're going to see Violet's program this season and from what I understand, she'll be doing everything but taking her clothes off. Unless she's doing that, too. I don't know."

"Look, Victor," Morgan settled me, "Do you love your boys?"

"Absolutely." The one thing in my mind I never had to doubt.

"And where do you think they're going to say when you ask them where they want to stay once you and Chris leave for Malta?"

"Violet, no question," I confirmed.

"Do you think she'll be able to take care of them?"

"I know she can," I assured, "But like I said, I have no idea where her priorities lie these days. One minute, she'll be more than happy to take the boys, but the next, she might decide she needs to go out, get shitfaced, beg her dom to get her off, and come home at three in the morning, if she comes home at all. I don't ever want to put Yuri and Yurio in the position where they don't know if Mama's coming home or not."

"Does she love them?" Morgan asked, scribbling her notes down.

"She does," my heart swelled at some of the happier memories we've had together. Every birthday, every Christmas...It warmed me on the inside.

"Then, they should be fine," she assured, "Your cautiousness isn't exactly unwarrented, but I'm sure Yuri and Yurio will be fine. You're just like any other new parent leaving their baby at home for a significant period of time without you being there."

"I don't know," I mulled it over, "I'm still a little uneasy."

"There's always the option of asking Celestino to check in while you're gone," Morgan suggested, "It's not like Violet doesn't see him every day anyway. He could be in and out of there completely undetected."

"And Violet wouldn't know the difference," I approved, "Alright. We can do that. Morgan, you're a genius. Were I an unmarried man, I might take you away instead."

"Victor, you flatter me," she awed, "But I don't play for your team. You don't play for mine."

"I know," I giggled a little, catching a glance at the sunset picture on her desk, "And how is Elizabeth doing?"

"Just fine," Morgan reported, "I had to take care of her last night, though. She had to put a couple dogs down yesterday and it broke her poor little heart."

"Send her my love and my condolences," I empathized.

"I will," she promised, "I think we're done here. If it's at all possible, I want you to see if you can get Violet to me somehow. I'd love to talk to her and pick her brain apart a little bit."

"It'll take an act of God," I jabbed, "But I'll try. I've dragged Violet out tooth and nail before. I'm sure I can do it again."

"You do have that kind of charisma," Morgan agreed, "Enjoy Malta. Truly enjoy it. No worries. You can always call Violet to check in or if you're not comfortable with that, call Celestino. Or even Yuri and Yurio directly."

"No," I shook my head, "I don't like fishing for information from them. It's not right."

"Alright," she let it go, "And I want to see you when you come back, ok? I want to hear about the trip. Malta's a beautiful country."

"I will," I nodded, "Thank you, Morgan. You're a saint."

"I'm no saint," Morgan giggled, "Just your therapist."

I checked out with her receptionist and set off for home. At least I thought I'd go home. Yuri was still at practice and Celestino had a handle on both boys. It wouldn't kill me to go to the rink myself. Just a little something to clear my head. Although, my last hour with Morgan was supposed to do that. She could only get me so far, though. Not that I'm doubting her. Morgan truly was a saint in these dark times. However, nothing could get me all the way there like a good run.

I skipped over to the quiet skating rink at Coney Island for nostalgic purposes. Yuri's birthday came to mind. And Violet's Lady Marmalade routine making its debut on the ice. That was a fun trip. We needed to do that again sometime soon. Regardless, I needed to get a good run in me. One was all I needed and everything would be fine again. I could already feel it working once I slipped on my rental skates.

Let's see...Do I put my playlist on shuffle and let it go from there or do I pick something? Nothing seemed to capture my current mood quite right. Shuffle, it is. It started out with an instrumental that I knew was from some video game Violet played (and in turn, Yurio), but it was only a piano. But it was slow and heartbreakingly beautiful. There was a strange melancholy in it. So, I started to pick up my speed.

A few spins here and there. A couple jumps. No. This won't do. This wasn't right. As much as I was loving it, this song wasn't working for me. It wasn't giving me the purge of my soul I was hoping for. Sorry, Mr. Kondo. Not today. Maybe some other time. After scrolling through a few more songs that weren't hitting me right, I found a familiar solace in a song I skated for Violet in my last season.

Oh, Vanilla Twilight. You put me back in a place that I longed for terribly. This song always reminded me of Violet. The lyrics were very spacy and despite our marriage only being a cover, I still loved her. I could spend hours getting lost in those big, beautiful eyes of hers. Like the stars in the sky found themselves there at the end of the day.

That day, when I skated this for her, I remember being in tears on the ice. But subtly. I didn't need the cameras catching that close up. I missed her so damn bad. Skating without her didn't feel right and knowing she was giving up so much for me to be able to do this tied me in knots. But the fact that I could care about someone so much to put me into that kind of situation...Such a beautiful feeling. Sure, it was melancholy, but I let it crash over me instead of consume me. And I went out with one of my best performances to date.

Maybe...Maybe I should come back to this. Skating has been one of the few things in my life that has ever made perfect sense. Not to mention, it's a hell of a way to get some of this weight off my chest. Dare I say it? I think I may want to make a comeback. The season has yet to start. I bet if I ask Yakov really nice, he'll take me in again...It's a thought.

 **A/N: Oh, yes. It is, indeed, a thought. I like this chapter. We got to play in Victor's head. This poor baby needed to vent something fierce and I'm here for it. I'm sure he talks to Chris for things, but now we know why Victor had that number to give to Violet when he told her to see a professional. She had the highest review on Yelp. I don't know. But now, he's giving his career another thought. Sure, Victor's retired now, but…maybe not. Semi-retired? He could stand to be a bit selfish, too.** **It's still up in the air, but I'm sure Malta will be good for him. See you next chapter! xx**


	19. Playdate

**A/N: Just a side note, friends. Not only is this chapter SUUUUPER long, but it's also got slight mentions of light BDSM. You have been warned. Still not a smut chapter. Still no intentions of it going into a smut story. There will be a red flag in the middle in bold to tell you when it starts and stops as to not deter you from the rest of the story. I will take my bows now. Enjoy, friends.**

I loved the Madame dearly, but I wish she wouldn't work my ass so hard. She's got me throwing more hip than God knows what to do with. And if my turns are loose, I swear she'll start throwing empty bottles at me. At the end of the day, though, I knew exactly why Madame worked me so hard. She knows I can handle it. Even before I started skating, Madame made sure I got the high energy routines.

That's why she made me Lady Marmalade. I had stamina coming out the ass and Lady Marmalade began with a delicate, yet rigorous ballet routine. Then, it turned into a fast-paced burlesque routine with the most intricate moves I've ever had to do. Not that I was complaining. It put me in touch with a side of myself that I never knew existed. Much like what going to Cosmos did for me. Or, should I say, reignited in me?

"Alright, Vi," Madame allowed, just as out of breath as I was, "I think we can call it quits for today. You're doing great, baby. I'm proud of you."

"I'm exhausted," I doubled over a table. One would think Ernie would splurge on bigger ones for me to lay on.

"As well you should be," she teased, "You're human, not a machine."

"I will feel this tomorrow," I glared, "And it's all your fault."

"Excuse me?" Madame defended, "Who's the one that asked me to choreograph her program for the season?"

"Me."

"Who's the one picking the fast songs to dance to?"

"Me."

"Your moves are elaborate because you need them to be," Madame sat down with me, "That's how you're going to win the judges over. A little bit of sex appeal can go a long way. Too much is trashy. Too little is prudish. Just enough? That's the sweet spot right there."

"That's why I train in my old burlesque club," I admitted, "Same principle. Not too trashy. Not too tame."

"And because I'm probably the best dance teacher you ever had," she assumed, "Am I right?"

"I don't know," I thought back, "The one I had when I was a kid was a mega bitch, so you get a leg up there. Although, I did have one when I was living in Russia that was an absolute delight. You'd love Natalia. She's awesome."

"Hey, Violet," Madame moved her chair back, "While I'm thinking of it, give me your legs."

"Why?" I gave her a look.

"I want to check them over," she explained, "Make sure your bruises aren't getting any worse."

"Actually," I kicked my throbbing feet up on her knee, "My bruises are almost gone. Icing them helps exponentially."

"And are you icing your legs?" Madame asked, already having my answer figured out.

"As often as I can," I bit my lip.

"So, once in a blue moon?"

"I've been busy," I argued, "I wake up, go to lessons, go to practice, go home, take a nap, have a life. Where am I going to fit in icing down my legs, too?"

"You need to take better care of yourself, Violet," she scolded, "If you tell me you've been living on Oreos and Dr. Pepper, too, I'm taking drastic action."

"I'm not living on Oreos and Dr. Pepper," I promised, getting up from my chair, "In fact, I'm about to go ice my bruises right now. But only if my routine ends up sucking and I take a nasty fall."

"Violet Isabella," Madame groaned, "You're going to put me in an early grave."

"Sorry," I giggled to myself, "I'll try not to miss any jumps."

"Thank you," she slumped down in her seat, "Really, though, Violet. Take better care of yourself. Just a little bit. That's all I ask. At least once a week."

"I can try." If Madame truly met Mike and told him all of this, I had no doubt in my mind that my life would be a living hell very quickly. I'd be taken care of whether I wanted to be or not. He's more forceful about my well-being than Victor, "I'll see you later, Madame. Wish me luck."

"Bye, sweetheart," Madame waved me off and I headed down a couple blocks to the rink.

Nothing quite like a good session on the ice to make me feel better. Although, the cool down between the Red Room and the rink was always nice, too. And with the weather getting warmer, the walks were a lot more pleasant. They reminded me of the late springs in St. Petersburg. The sounds of the traffic. The birds cawing more than they should. I missed living in Russia, but I loved living in New York again. It felt so familiar.

"Morning, Violet," Gene met me outside the rink. It's strange. Ever since I got a bodyguard, the reporters are starting to leave me alone. Maybe because Celestino tore Doyle Wallace of Skate Weekly Magazine such a new one (with a little bit of help from yours truly). Or the fact that Gene was twice my size and could probably hold his own in a fight.

"Morning, Gene," I fell into his embrace. But then, I also caught sight of a small, white cup in his hand, "And what's that?"

"This," he gave it to me, "is for you. Since you were coming off your dance lesson, I figured you could use the boost. You drink a flat white, right?"

"I love you, Gene," I took a long, delightful sip from my latte, "Yes, I do."

"And," Gene kept an arm around me as the two of us went inside, "I had the barista put an extra something, something in it."

"I'm not tasting Kahlua," I took another drink, trying to pinpoint it.

"I meant an extra shot of espresso, you lush," he teased, "Finish that up. I'm sure Celestino won't let you drink that while you're skating and cold coffee sucks."

"Amen, sister," I agreed, "But iced coffee is so good."

"I'm not doubting that," Gene nodded.

"Cold coffee is like wannabe iced coffee," I thought, "But sadly, it will never be iced coffee."

"You're oddly energetic," he pointed out, "What's the occasion?"

"What do you mean, oddly energetic?" I wondered, "I'm usually like this."

"No, no, sweetheart," Gene argued, "What time did you get in last night?"

"Last night...?" I winced, "I didn't get in last night..."

"This morning, then," he rolled his eyes.

"About seven," I think that's what the clock said before I took my half hour nap. I did feel like shit when I walked in, but that's because of...Well...Last night was a little rough, but well worth it. It's amazing what a quick shower and a vitamin B will do.

"Very nice, Violet," Gene applauded sarcastically, "So, you got laid last night and that's what's got you up and at it today."

"That's not the only reason why," I groaned, "I can't just be in a good mood?"

"Far be it for me to look a gift horse in the mouth here," he let it go, getting the door for me, "Go on. Make me proud."

"Morning, Coach!" I called out into the void of the empty rink. Might as well get my skates on, too.

"Good morning, Violet," Celestino finally joined in, "Sorry. I had to get Yurio to his dance lesson and bring Yuri back to Victor. It's been a hectic morning."

"Maybe you need this more than I do," I gave him the rest of my latte. It's not like I could finish it anyway. I'd hate to see it go to waste.

"Flat white?" he assumed.

"Double."

"Grazie, bambina," Celestino downed it without another thought.

"Hold on," I stopped him, "What did you have Yuri for? I thought Victor was coaching him."

"He asked me to fill in this morning," he nursed his burning tongue, "Something about an appointment he couldn't miss. He seemed a little scatterbrained this morning."

"Victor's always a little scatterbrained," I pointed out, "If he's not, then there's something wrong with him."

"But he seemed more scatterbrained than usual," Celestino worried.

"I'm sure he's fine," I brushed him off, finishing the last bow at the top of my skate, "So, what are we doing today?"

"Do you have a song list for this season?" he asked.

"Lady Marmalade, Bad Romance, and S&M," I decided, "Good enough? I'd say they all fit different aspects of my theme perfectly."

"That they do," Celestino agreed, "But are you sure that's what you're wanting to go with?"

"Yep," I started heading out to the middle of the rink, "Let's start with Bad Romance today."

"You don't strike me as the Lady Gaga type, Violet," he wondered, "Are you sure you want to do Bad Romance?"

"Who said anything about Gaga's version?" I smirked, "Don't get me wrong. Lady Gaga's alright once in a while, but for this, I want the Halestorm version. It's a lot louder, a lot harder, and definitely the right level of angst I'm wanting to get across."

"Alright," Celestino wasn't going to fight me. He usually trusted me with my own music choices. When I first started, he was more than happy to let me pick my music. I had an eclectic taste and a good pulse on song meanings. For my lust theme this year, I'd say Bad Romance will do quite nicely.

As the guitar riff began, I started doing some of my own choreography. Madame could get me my step sequence perfectly, but as far as the skating aspect was concerned, that was all me. Now, Bad Romance...It's cited as being about taking all the worst parts of someone and finding a way to love them. Falling in love with the other person's flaws. The parts that they would call ugly and making it beautiful.

That's not how I was looking at it.

I'm seeing this more at the end of the relationship. When those flaws turn into monsters. The anger, the lying, the cheating, the guilt. That's when they turn into feelings of revenge. Someone was hurt and torn apart and left in the gutter heartbroken. They were nothing but a hollow shell of what they once were. The person saw the flaws as something beautiful once. But then, over time, they mutated. And the person ended up paying the price.

What better way to portray that anger and pain than through some of the sharpest moves in my arsenal? I had spins on lock and a few jumps that could use some work, but they were still pretty tight and clean. I could do this. And for the end, a quad toe loop to stab into the monster's chest, so they knew the pain they put the other one through. I collapsed to the ice, feeling the coolness soothe my aching body. Thank you, ice. You'll always be there for me.

"Well done, Violet," Celestino applauded, "Very nice. I'm not sure if I should feel proud of you or pity you."

"I'll take the pride, please," I groaned, not wanting to get up.

"Alright then," he decided, "I'm proud of you. What was going through your head then?"

"I'd rather not talk about it," I skated back to the barricade, "I'll let my skating do the talking for me."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Celestino let it go, "Now, what are you skating next? Do I play Lady Marmalade or S&M?"

"Surprise me," I didn't know if I even wanted to do another one. My stamina may be incredible, but it's like Madame said. I'm human, not a machine. I could only go so far, "Preferably the slower one of the two."

"Ok," he gave me my water bottle, "Take a minute first. Once you get your breath back, then we'll do it, ok?"

"Ok," I chirped, taking a good, heavy drink from my bottle. I mixed up a nice little concoction of energy drinks and Gatorade before I left my condo this morning. Hopefully, that'll give me the little boost I need to get through my next song. No matter which one Celestino picks. Although, because I asked for the slower one of the two, I wouldn't be surprised if he was playing Lady Marmalade. Which wouldn't be so bad. It'd be enough to where I could cool down, but still get some practice in.

"Are you good?" Celestino asked, checking me over.

"Yep," I gave him my bottle, "Let's do this."

"Alright," he let me get back to the middle of the ice and hit play on my phone.

Oh, yeah. This brought me back.

This song was my equivalent of red lipstick. I had to pull a bit of a Jekyll and Hyde with this song. The judges will be confused as to why I'd be doing a ballet routine instead of something a little sexier at first. Because that's the way the old routine started. Something a little innocent to only heighten the sex appeal toward the end. Lure them in with the pretty face and the graceful moves.

And as soon as it broke down, I spun down into the ice. Only to rise again like the phoenix Lady Marmalade was and turn up the sex appeal. She's not the girl they thought they knew anymore. She's something different. An entirely different monster. Something they've never seen before. She had become Lady Marmalade, the siren leading them in with sharper, more venomous moves. That's right. Chase the pretty girl. Because she's about to be your downfall. I don't know why, but I always imagined Lady Marmalade to be some sort of vampire in the French Quarter of New Orleans.

Finally, the song had come to an end and I took my final fall. Damn, that felt good! Thank you, Victor, for convincing me to bring Lady Marmalade to the ice. Because that might be my new favorite routine. Other than skating Primadonna with Yurio. I don't think anything could ever top that. It's what got him skating in the first place and in a way, it got me back to the ice.

"Violet?" Celestino called out, "Are you alive?"

"Barely," I stuck my thumb up in the air, "But I'm ok!"

"Do you still want to do S&M?"

"No, thank you," I sighed out, "I think I'm done for the day."

"I couldn't agree more," he allowed, "You don't need to strain yourself so much."

"Yeah, I do," I got back to the barricade, "If I don't give it my all, what's the point of doing it?"

"You also don't want to peak too soon," Celestino scolded, "I know you want to crush every performance, bambina, but you also need to remember to pace yourself."

"I'll be fine," I brushed him off, finishing off my bottle. Then, I remembered I had a promise to fulfill, "Hey, Celestino, can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"Next practice," I requested, "Do you think I could bring a little friend of mine with me?"

"A little friend?" he wondered while Gene had a big ass grin on his face, "I told you, Violet. You're not skating with Yurio this season."

"I wasn't talking about Yurio," I clarified, "I made a little girl a promise that I'd take her skating the next time I had practice, but I had to run it by you first. I promise you'll love her, too."

"Will I want to take her on, too?" Celestino jabbed, "Because I have enough skaters on my plate as it is. Between you and Yurio, I don't think I could do another one on top of that. It was hard enough keeping Yurio and Yuri's programs separate while they were skating today."

"No," I shook my head, "She's a little young to be thinking about getting into this professionally. Please? I'll show up to practice every day for the next week and work twice as hard. Pleeeease?"

He thought it over for a minute or two, "And your little friend won't interfere with your practice while she's here?"

"No."

"Well..." a little smile crept across my coach's face, "I don't see why not."

"Yay!" I threw my arms around him, "Thanks, Coach!"

"Only if she behaves herself," he stipulated, "One toe out of line from either one of you and we'll never do this again."

"She will, Celestino," Gene promised, "Sophie's a good girl."

"You know her, too?"

"She's my daughter," he explained, "She asked Violet the other night at dinner and I honestly thought she forgot about it."

"No," I squeaked, "Of course not. Sophie and I are buddies at this point. I love her like she was my own."

"She loves you, too," Gene chuckled, "I tucked her in last night and she asked me if I knew if she'd get to skate with you yet."

"Looks like the answer's yes," I kicked my skates off, "But I don't think I'd be able to take her today. My feet are killing me."

"Poor baby," Celestino empathized, "No one said you had to come here right after your dance lessons."

"I did, though," I threw them in my bag and slipped my flats on, searching my pockets for my phone, "Hey, Gene, can you wait a second before you come out? I need to make a quick call."

"Go ahead," Gene allowed, "I'll be out there in a minute."

"Thank you!" I winged my bag over my shoulder and started heading out, "See you tomorrow, Coach!"

"Bye, Violet!" I stepped outside and around the corner into the alley. Last night, I was told to call as soon as I was done. Something tells me he'd be pissed if I didn't. I scrolled through my contact list until I reached the M's.

Ring...

Ring...

"Hi there, sweetheart," a warm voice rumbled on the other end.

"I missed you, Master," I bit my lip.

"I miss you, too, Violet," Mike awed, "Are you all done?"

"Yes, sir."

"I'm sending a car for you," he told me, "You want to call that raincheck for breakfast?"

"Sure," I agreed, "I'll see you soon."

"I'll be waiting..."

Click.

"Hey, Vi," Gene came out, "You done yet?"

"Yeah," I tossed my phone in my bag, "I said it'd be quick."

"Thank you, by the way," he smiled, "For doing that for Sophie."

"Any time," I gushed, "I wasn't lying. I absolutely adore your daughter. She's the best of my boys in a little girl. How could I not? And now, she gets to skate with me."

"I can't wait to tell her," Gene was about to come out of his skin, "She's going to freak. You don't happen to have a pair of skates for her, do you?"

"She's never skated before?"

"Not once," he admitted, "But she's always wanted to."

"What size shoe does she wear?" I chuckled under my breath.

"Thirteen, I think..."

"I have a pair of Yurio's old skates she can use," I assured, "I got her."

"Good," Gene leaned up against the brick building, "If she didn't get to go, she'd kill me."

"A lot of rinks have rental skates, too," I pointed out, "But God only knows whose feet those have seen. The only one with these you have to worry about is Yurio and that kid is pretty well taken care of. His feet aren't diseased."

"Awesome."

A black town car pulled up in front of us and a man stepped out of the driver's seat, "Excuse me. Ms. Plisetsky?"

"Yeah?" Gene stepped in front of me, keeping me blocked.

"Um..." the driver wasn't sure what to make of Gene. He didn't look like Ms. Plisetsky, "Mr. Holloway sent me for you."

"Vi?" Gene glanced over his shoulder, "Is he legit?"

"Yeah," I stepped out from the giant wall keeping me safe, "It's cool, Gene. I'm going to Mike's. I just got off the phone with him. He did send this for me. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" he was still a bit skeptical.

"I'm sure," I swore, "Go on. I'll let you know the next time I leave anywhere and need you."

"Ok," Gene wrapped his arms around me tight, "Be careful, ok?"

"Ok." The driver got the door for me and the two of us took off. At this point, I was just glad to sit down. My poor little feet have been through more than what they deserve today. All because of my stupid surge of energy. On the plus side, though, I did just get in a hell of a practice run. I crushed my dance lessons. Now, I was on my way for breakfast with Mike. Life was good. Although, I'd love to know why the hell we were on the Upper East Side.

The driver stopped in front of a building that was definitely too rich for my blood. Even after living with Victor "actual high maintenance bitch" Nikiforov for as long as I did, he wouldn't take me to places like this. He knew they made me uncomfortable. I was fresh off a high energy practice and in dire need of a shower and Mike has me brought here? There has to be a method to his madness somewhere in this mess. Either that or he doesn't realize how gross I get after practice.

"Ms. Plisetsky," a woman ushered me inside. She was kind of pushy, "Please. Right this way."

"Ok," I stumbled my own two feet, still confused and horribly out of my element. Come on, Mike. What was I doing here? I thought we were just getting breakfast.

"Our restaurant is just upstairs," she explained, taking me into an elevator. It's times like these where I missed having Gene around. Just in case, "However, there is a dress code and as of right now, you are far from meeting it."

"Sorry," I winced. I mean, that was kind of rude, but I am on her territory, "I just got in the car. It brought me here. I had no say in it."

"Mr. Holloway has chosen something for you," she giggled a little, "No need to worry. There's also a bathroom with a shower waiting for you whenever you're ready. If you'd like, we could go there first."

"Absolutely." Wow. Mike did think of everything. I should give him more credit. The woman opened the door for me to this studio apartment that looked awfully comfortable. Plain, simple, but comfortable. Clothes were laid out on the bed just for me. Mental note. Thank Master once I finally get around to seeing him.

The bathroom matched the rest of the apartment. Just as simple as the rest of the place. I didn't care about that too much. All I wanted was the layer of sweat off my skin. Even if this place was too fancy for me, I still needed to blend in to survive. They didn't need to smell the girl I used to be on me. Although over the years I've been fortunate to live a certain kind of lifestyle, I was still the girl Victor met all those years ago, dancing at the burlesque club and occasionally escorting on the side.

Once I turned on the shower, all of that melted away and went down the drain. This was nice. This was very nice. The shower head found spots that I never thought I had and sent my head into a whirlwind. Yes...Thank you, Master. You know how to spoil a girl, don't you? As I got lost in my shower, I let my mind wander. I wonder what Mike's got planned for this morning. I didn't care as long as I was getting breakfast. After a practice like that, I'm starving. Another flat white would hit the spot.

When I got out, it broke my heart a little. I'm going to miss you, shower. The one at Mike's penthouse was just as good, though. I'll be fine. On the vanity, an assortment of lotions and perfumes were lined up and grouped by smell. I could be cheeky and use the vanilla ones for the not so vanilla man upstairs. But I was partial to the lavender myself. Why not?

Not only were there a plethora of lotions for me to choose from, but the makeup selection was top notch, too. This damn near rivaled what I'd take with for competition. While it's here, I might as well use it, too. Besides, after I got out of the shower, I looked hella splotchy. And I had no eyes. Nothing too over the top, though. A little foundation, a little winged eyeliner, a little gloss and I was good.

I unzipped the garment bag on the bed to find a white chiffon dress on the inside. Huh. I see Master is feeling a little cheeky this morning. When we go to Cosmos and I'm in white, that's the universal symbol for purity and innocence and a target on my bag for demonstration or to dance in the cage. Just to get people a little riled up. After what went down last night, I wouldn't think he'd see me as so innocent. But what the hell, right?

Besides, I looked adorable. Always did when I looked innocent. Then, I saw the remaining item in the bag. A dark blue box that was yet another universal symbol in Cosmos. The one that would say not to touch me because I belonged to another. Even though I understood I wasn't a piece of property, Mike and I had an understanding that I wouldn't sleep around. And my pretty black choker with the amethyst stone hanging from it would let others know that just as well. I slipped on the black flats left for me and headed out the door.

"You look adorable, Ms. Plisetsky," my hostess stood outside the apartment door, "Mr. Holloway is a lucky man."

"Thank you," I smiled, "And where is he?"

"He's waiting for you," she led me back to the elevator and took me all the way to the top.

Damn. When she said this place had a dress code, she wasn't joking. It looked like one of those places I would pass by on the way to work and stare up at, wondering if I'd ever be allowed in. This was one of those places where New York's elite would be hiding, getting into scandal, what have you. They'd smell the poor on me and turn me away at the door. But that was also before Victor and Chris practically adopted me and I had to use my body to pay my bills. I still use my body to pay my bills, just not as explicitly. It made me wonder who Mike was on his knees for to get into this place.

"There you are, sweetheart," Master extended his hand to me, "I was wondering where you were. You had me worried."

"I'm sorry," I bit the inside of my cheek, "It's been a little overwhelming this morning."

"Thank you," he sent my new friend off and offered me my seat, "Good morning, my little pet. How are you?"

"A little achy," I drank half my water already, "And seriously caught off guard. When you said breakfast, I thought we'd be going back to your penthouse."

"Sue me," Mike shrugged, "I wanted to treat my girl like the princess she is."

"Well," I instantly turned red, "Don't you think this is a little much?"

"Oh, Violet, Violet, Violet," he sighed out, "Get used to this kind of thing. If I want to spoil you, I will without hesitation and without warning. I like to keep you on your toes and keep you guessing. It keeps our relationship interesting."

This man really was a sadist, wasn't he? Nevertheless, I guess I'd have to learn to live with it, "Alright."

"Also," Mike mashed his foot over mine, sending a twinge of pain up my leg, "I go through all this trouble and this is how you repay me? Back talk? I'm almost insulted."

"I'm sorry," I cringed, clawing into the arms of my chair, "Thank you, Master. Please let up on my foot. I had a long practice today and my feet already hurt."

"And?" he asked, easing up on me, "How did you do?"

"Really well," I rested them on the legs of the table, "I didn't miss a jump."

"That's my girl," Master praised, "I'm so proud of you."

"But," I went on, "I'm sore as hell. It's days like this where I miss Sasha terribly."

"Who's Sasha?"

"He was my regular masseuse when I was still living in Russia," I hid a smile from him, keeping the particulars of our visits to myself. I miss Sasha.

"He?" Mike got territorial.

"Yes," I settled him, "But there was never anything romantic between us."

"Well," the vein receded into his forehead, "Maybe after breakfast, we can take care of that, yeah? How does that sound?"

"Fantastic," I swooned. Mike's hands had some sort of magical powers. Any time they were on me, I knew I was in for a ride.

"Excuse me, Mr. Holloway," a waiter joined us with a small tower of various pastries, "Can I get you anything else?"

"A flat white and three shots of espresso," he ordered.

"Yes, sir." With a quick bow, he was off to bring him a liquid heart attack. Although, given that he's ordered my usual poison of choice (that I damn near had an immunity to, so it won't kill me), I'm hoping that's for me.

"Violet," Mike began, "I think you and I need to talk."

"Ok," I felt my stomach bunch up, "What about it?"

"I want you to..."

"Here we are, sir," our waiter returned with what Mike asked for, "One triple shot flat white."

"Thank you," he shooed him away again, a little pissed he got cut off. Master didn't like it when he got cut off like that, "Anyway, before I was so rudely interrupted, I want you to start cutting out caffeine."

"Wait," I jumped, my heart stopping, "Why?"

"If you cut out caffeine," Master explained, "You'll feel tired sooner. Do you know how amazing our sessions would be if you're delirious? Since you'd be so out of it mentally, all of your other senses would kick into overdrive. The sensations I could put you in would send you through the ceiling in the best way. I promise."

"But," I could feel my heart break in two, "I kind of have a physical dependency on it."

"I know it'll be hard," he empathized, taking my hand, "But I know you can do it. I've seen you do so many other incredible things. This won't be that big of a problem, right?"

"I don't know..."

"Violet," Mike rested his foot on top of mine under the table, "Are you sure about that? It's nothing but a little mental trickery. It can be done."

Yeah. With a miracle and a prayer. But because of the threat to my foot looming overhead, all I could do was nod, "Ok. I can do it."

"That's my girl." Is this the part where Morgan Freeman, in his narration of my life as per my daydreams, comes in and says that she, in fact, could not do it? Because my life without caffeine seems like an endless hell that I don't deserve.

I needed a quick distraction. Something that'll keep me from crying over the loss of my favorite little helper, "So, of all the places in town, why did you pick here for us to have breakfast?"

"I've been coming here for years," Mike spun the tale, "It was one of those places I'd go to all the time when I was younger. My mother met with a lot of her clients here. At least she said they were clients. But when I was little, I was completely enthralled by the view. Can't really go wrong. It's always been very special to me and I wanted to share it with someone equally as special."

"Well," I could see where he was coming from. There was something oddly settling about being above the city, "Thank you, Master."

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he gave me a little smile, "Maybe we can go somewhere special to you some day. I'm in the mood for a trip."

"When?" I wondered.

"I don't know," he shrugged, "Got any plans for this weekend? We can leave tonight and be back by Monday."

"No can do," I turned him own, "I got plans for this weekend. And probably next weekend, too."

"Excuse me?" Master perked up, gently tapping my foot, just enough to let me know he's there, "And what's keeping you from me not one weekend, but two?"

"My sons," I got defensive, "I'm sorry, but they come first. Even before our time together. They'll be staying with me for the next week starting tomorrow. I'll be handling their schedules and my own, so chances are, we won't be seeing much of each other for a week until they go back."

"Well then," he finished his flat white as a giant middle finger to me, "We shouldn't waste any more time, should we? Let's go make the most of what little we have left."

"Ok." He's pissed. I could feel it in the air. Master was not happy with me. Let him take it out on me, but I'm sorry. My boys are my top priority. Always. If he's really going to get jealous of my children, that's his problem. I'll give him what he wants in due time, but until Chris and Victor come back, Master can't monopolize my time.

 **A/N: Here's where it's going to start getting a little dirty…**

After a long, quiet ride back to Mike's penthouse, he carried me into his bedroom, laying me down on the bed, "Violet, strip. Everything but your collar. And I guess you can keep your panties on. For now anyway."

"Yes, Master," I pulled the zipper on my dress and let it puddle at my feet.

"On the bed, face down," he demanded, "Do you know what we're about to do? Because this isn't going to be like our other play sessions."

"No, sir," I did as I was told, "What are we doing?"

"You did say you were sore," Mike kneaded his hands into my back, sending me to such a delightful place, "I told you, Violet. I can take care of you as long as you let me."

I bit down hard into the pillows, suppressing the loud moan wanted to escape my throat, "Thank you, Master."

"Better than the Sasha guy you used to see?" That's weird. If I didn't know any better, I'd think Mike's jealousy has only gotten worse since we left. Maybe he's got a praise kink. That's a thing, isn't it? I think Chris ran me through that. No. He's too dominating to have a praise kink. But I could stand to throw him a bone.

"So much better," I let out a heavy, breathy sigh, "You know, this used to be a regular occurrence for me. At least once a month."

"What made you stop?" Mike started kissing up my spine. Intense tingles shot through my body.

"I wasn't going to take advantage of Victor like that anymore," I admitted, "Once the ink was dry on our divorce papers, I didn't want him to think he still had to take care of me like that."

"And he doesn't," he growled in my ear, digging deeper into muscle aches I didn't know I had, "I do. You spend a lot of time with...Victor, don't you?"

"Not like I used to," I felt a strange ache in my chest. I missed my best friend. There was no doubt about that.

"That's right," Master climbed on top of me, "Like I said, pet. I can take care of you as long as you let me. You don't have to rely on him anymore. That's what you have me for. You like when Master takes care of you, don't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"You don't need anyone else, do you?" he pushed harder.

"No, sir." Holy hell, he was jealous. Of my boys. Of Victor. I wonder if he knew I knew Chris, too. Apparently, he's been there and done that, too.

"That's my girl," Master whispered in my ear, " _My_ girl. And mine alone, right? My pet wouldn't stray, would she?"

"No, sir."

"Good," he praised, petting me gently, "Can I take you now, Violet?"

"Yes, sir." He made a very compelling case. Saying no to Master was nearly impossible when it came to sex. If he'd stop being so damn good at it, I'd be able to resist it a little better. But because as of lately, my brain has become the bitch of my hormones, I can't flip the off switch as easily as I used to. And because we wouldn't be seeing each other for a while, Master wasn't holding back. It wasn't long after we were done that I curled up on the bed in our aftermath and dozed off.

 **A/N: Holy mother of God, I wasn't expecting this chapter to be so long. To be honest, I got most of it done Saturday when I was all kinds of jacked up. I don't know if it was a serious caffeine buzz, but it made me hella productive. And I liked it. Hence the early update today. Last week, Victor was all worried about Violet's priorities. If she's got to say it until she's blue in the face, her boys will always come first. Especially the littlest one. She doesn't think he gets enough love. The kind he needs anyway. The not over the top kind like Chris and Victor try to give him when they do give him the time of day. But! I'm going to keep this caffeine fueled train going and get some more done today. See you next chapter! xx**


	20. Bon Voyage

**A/N: Hi, guys! Real quick before we get into this, I want to bring mass attention to a comment from last week from a long-time listener, not first-time caller FairyGirl960 talking about Violet's dedication to Yuri and Yurio. Out of everything in this story (including the slight kink she's gotten herself into…Don't look at me like that. I'm an adult. I can have an appreciation for certain things and it's not the first time I've written kink.), Violet's instinctive mothering and the way she handles kids is my absolute favorite (I mean, she's occasionally had to be a mom to Victor "off camera", too, but we're not focusing on that right now.). We saw a little bit of it in Adopted when our babies were making friends with Phichit and Otabek, more so with Phichit than Otabek, but we also saw a little bit of it recently with Gene's daughter. Violet absolutely adores her and I can't blame her. Sophie's adorable. But of course she's going to jump when a little girl asks her to take her ice skating. That's right in the wheelhouse (however, there's another reason, too, that we'll discuss at a later date). It doesn't matter what's going on around her, Violet Plisetsky-Nikiforov is a mom first, a skater second, and Master's plaything third. That's her guiding principle. And I love it. Thanks for coming to my TED Talk about one of my OCs. I hope to see you all back at the next one. Now, enjoy this mediocre chapter of Off the Rails.**

Why must taking a nap always be such a Russian roulette for me? Either I wake up and feel amazing or I wake up with a throbbing headache. Today, God decided to shit on my chest and give me one bitch of a headache. Why can't Violet have nice things? I did have Master laying with me, though. I guess it can't be all that bad, right? I curled into Mike's chest a little closer, enjoying the warm skin on skin contact.

"Well..." his rumbling voice caught me off guard, "I see someone woke up from her nap. Did you sleep ok, Violet?"

"Yeah," I rubbed my eyes, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep. Practices have been kicking my ass lately. And I have a feeling it's not going to get any easier."

"It's alright, sweetheart," Mike kissed my cheek, "I understand."

"You do?" I hoped.

"Of course," he traced his fingers up my arm, "I've seen how hard you work. You become an entirely different creature when you step on that ice. So, if you're needing to shut your eyes for a little while, so be it. You deserve it."

"Well," I started getting up, "As much as I'd love to lay here a little longer, I need to get going."

"Excuse me?" Master wrapped his arms around my waist, keeping me on the bed, "Where do you think you're going, pet? I never said you could leave."

"I'm sorry," I writhed out of his embrace, much to his chagrin, "But I got shit to do. My fridge is empty and my boys are staying with me tomorrow for the next week. I really do wish I could stay just a bit longer."

"Fine," Mike groaned, letting me go, "Every bone in my body is saying no, but fine. Go ahead."

"Thank you," I got back on my feet. Only to be sharply pulled back down to the bed.

"But I hope you know this, Violet," he demanded, pinning me to the mattress, "You will be making up for this. When the week is up and your boys are gone, you and I are going to Cosmos. And I'll have a week to plan new things for us to try. I hope you'll be ready for that."

"Yes, sir," I kept my voice down, submitting immediately.

"Good girl," Master praised, "And remember, Violet. While you're gone, what are the rules for when I'm not around?"

"Wear my choker," I remembered. The second rule was already crushing my very soul, "And no caffeine."

"That's right," he gave me one last kiss, "Now, go on, my pet. You got shit to do, so go do it."

"Thank you," I grabbed my clothes and left Mike's penthouse for the mean streets of New York.

I say mean. They're not always so mean. Sometimes, there's a few nice people on the street, but that's here nor there. For now, I had to go to the grocery store. Although...my ass was dragging and I could always take the boys with me. Screw it. I'm going in the morning. There were other little things I could do back home and if I go tomorrow, I'll have Gene with me, too. Being me without a bodyguard in public is hellish enough. Being me without a bodyguard but with two little kids on my hip would be a damn nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

Home sweet home. Tucked away in my cozy little condo (I say little...Sue me for trying to be humble here.). I dug around in the lower cabinet for a bag of dry kibble to put in the bowl of a fat, lazy, judgmental angel that I adored. Sure enough, as soon as she heard the bag crinkle open, Nadya came running. I swear...This cat. I loved her, though.

Now that she's taken care of, what to do, what to do. The housekeeping staff here took care of most of the cleaning, so it's not like my condo was trashed. Could I actually do something silly and kick my feet up for the rest of the night? That actually sounded like a hell of an idea. Make a drink, turn the hot tub on, and do absolutely nothing? I could've stayed with Mike a little more, couldn't I? I knew damn well he'd have me all over the place and right now, my body couldn't handle that. I needed some refraction time, too.

My hot tub and my vodka sour felt like a hug. Yes. Life was good. My bruises on my legs were nearly gone (minus the ones Mike gave me. It doesn't matter how softly he hits me with a riding crop. There's always a bruise somewhere.). My muscles were starting to relax. Tomorrow, I'd have my little ones running around my place. It's definitely going to be balls to the wall for the next week, but I could handle it. I've gotten myself to a good place in my head to where I could find an achievable balance. Good for you, Violet.

Out of nowhere, my front door creaked open. I needed to call maintenance and get some WD-40 on that hinge. The pitter patter of little feet sounded a bit prematurely in my living room. Or, in this case, not so little feet. I knew I wasn't being broken into. In this entire town, only three people had a key to my condo, excluding myself. If they would've broken off the lock, I would've heard something. Everything's fine. Especially when I saw the culprit walking across my living room.

"Hi, Victor!" I chimed from the balcony.

"Hi, Violet," Victor came out to me, looking rather confused, "You're home?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Why wouldn't I be? I do live here."

He took a quick scan around, "No Gene?"

"Nope," I shook my head, "I sent him home early. I had a date this morning and I just got back...maybe an hour or two ago? What time is it?"

"Almost eight o'clock."

"Closer to two hours ago," I did the math in my head, "What's up? What brings you to my piece of the sky?"

"Just thought I'd drop by to say hi," Victor sat at the edge of my hot tub, "I was in the neighborhood."

"Victor," I pointed out, "You live a floor under me. I'd say you're always in the neighborhood. Not to mention, I'm out of your way. The gym's downstairs and we don't know anyone above us."

"I know," he bit his lip, "But I did want to come see you."

"And here I am," I beamed.

"So," Victor asked, "You had a date this morning?"

"Mike wanted to take me for breakfast," I told him, "You know that really pretty hotel on the Upper East Side that I always gushed about with the restaurant on the top floor?"

"That I tried taking you to when we first met?" He did remember...It's too bad I didn't until now, "What about it?"

"Well," I cringed internally, "I didn't have a say in it, so he took me there."

"He does realize you're a simple girl, right?" Victor wondered, "That you don't need to be dripping in diamonds?"

"I don't think that matters to him," I settled myself, "It was delightful, though. And the views are downright spectacular. He said that his mom took him there when he was younger a lot."

"Actually, Violet," he turned quiet. Not something that happens to Victor often, but when it does, it makes me sweat a little, "That's kind of what I wanted to talk to you about."

"What?"

"While Chris and I are gone," Victor worried, "Is Mike going to be around much?"

"No," I assured, "He told me that he still wanted to see me regularly, but I told him no. The relationship's too new to have him around the boys all the time. Besides, I'm still not a hundred percent sure on what we are. And I wouldn't want Yuri and Yurio to get too attached to him and then, we split and they keep asking where Mike is and why he's not coming around anymore."

"Violet," he shut me up, a little smile creeping across his face, "I get it."

"Hey," I thought for a second, "Yuri and Yurio don't have practice tomorrow, do they?"

"They get weekends off," Victor explained, "Yuri does a dance lesson, then practice. Yurio does practice, then a dance lesson. Think you can handle it?"

"It wouldn't be the first time," I smiled, "I actually miss it terribly."

"It's exhausting," he chuckled under his breath, "Are you sure?"

"Victor," I reminded him, "I've taken care of the boys by myself longer than you have. I think I got a good handle on it."

"I know," Victor agreed, "But you're also out of practice."

"Bullshit," I rolled my eyes, "I got this. It's like riding a bike."

"But..."

"Victor, relax," I settled him, "I can take care of our boys. We'll be fine. Just think of this trip as your last season all over again. Only without skating. Unless you and Chris manage to find a rink in Malta, but I doubt that either one of you are going to focus on work."

"And if you need anything..."

"I'll call Celestino," I cut him off, "Honestly, sweetheart, you worry too much."

"Some days, I don't worry enough," Victor let out a heavy sigh, finishing off my drink for me. He thought for a minute or two, "Grey Goose this evening, dorogoy?"

"Yes," I glared a hole through him, "The last of my Grey Goose, too, you dick."

"Sorry," he giggled, "I'll get you another bottle."

"Thank you." I love my best friend so much. Even when he drinks the rest of my vodka. I had no intentions of making another one tonight anyway.

"Or..." Victor retracted, "Maybe instead of getting you another bottle of Grey Goose, Chris and I can kill a couple days to jump over to the motherland and pay a visit to one of our old neighbors."

"Have I mentioned how much I love you, Victor?" I laid my head on his thigh.

"I think you might have," he pushed my hair out of my face, "Once or twice. I love you, too, Violet."

"Hey," I chirped, "You sticking around for a while?"

"I really should be getting back," Victor thought, "I left Chris alone with Yuri and Yurio and you know how scrappy Yurio can be when he's tired."

"Oh, god, yes," I knew that feeling all too well. Not that I've been on the receiving end of it. Not to brag, but I didn't have to wear oven mitts to wake Yurio up, no matter how tired he was when he woke up, "I understand. Go ahead. Are you going to stop by before you leave or am I getting the boys on my own?"

"We'll stop by," he promised, "Like we'd leave without saying goodbye."

"Ok," I sunk deeper into the hot tub, "Go make sure Chris isn't tied up surrounded by Cheerios."

"That's what we call Tuesdays," Victor smirked, "But something tells me it's less disturbing when the boys are there and Yurio is the likely culprit."

"True," I rolled my eyes. What was I going to do with him…?

"I will see you in the morning," he kissed the top of my head, "I'm going to go home, get in bed with my husband, and get some sleep. Our flight's at eight. We'll be here around six."

"That's fine," I allowed, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Love you!"

"Love you, too!" And just like that, Victor was gone. I missed having him around. And now, he's going to be off in a different country. He'll be back, though. Chris and Victor are only going to be gone for a week. I'll be fine.

Going to bed didn't sound like a half bad idea. And with Master telling me I can't have caffeine anymore, I could use all the sleep I can get at this point. No caffeine…My heart hurt so bad. You can do it, Violet. You'll be ok. I know you're hella hooked on it and you have been for many, many, many years, but you can do it. It's for Master. Master asked you nicely. It's just caffeine. You can kick this.

I threw my wet bikini in the laundry basket in my bathroom and crawled into bed. Staring at the ceiling got old after the first ten minutes. Did I still have any Nyquil? I'm not sure, but I didn't want to get out of bed. It's times like these when I was still living with Victor that I'd have him get up and get it for me, but he's a floor under me. Oh well. I'll just shut my eyes for now. Hopefully, the right combination of chemicals will release in my brain at the right time.

The next morning, I felt something move in my bed. Considering I was the only one in my bed when I went to sleep, I had to admit. I'm a bit worried. But given that it was a little moving in my bed, I'm not too freaked. When I felt it the second time, I knew exactly what was going on. My boys were tired and thought to crawl in with me. My heart turned to complete pudding. I know they don't want to be up at this ungodly hour and I felt for them. I'll leave these two alone and let them sleep. I got out of bed and covered Yuri and Yurio back up. Sweet dreams, boys. Sweet dreams.

In the living room, Chris and Victor were snuggled up on my couch, helping themselves to my coffee and what little M&Ms I had left in the bowl on my coffee table. Those sons of bitches…Screw it. Let them. I'll live without them. Although, maybe the sugar buzz will be a reasonable replacement for caffeine. I hope so. Because this withdrawal is going to be a bitch.

"Morning, boys," I reached into my fridge, instantly grabbing for my coffee creamer. But I couldn't have any coffee. Boo.

"Morning, Violet," Chris chirped. How in the ever-loving hell was he so uppity?

"Easy, killer," I grabbed for one of Yurio's juice boxes instead. I might not have gone grocery shopping lately, but that's one of those things I never ever run out, "Think of me the same way you would Yurio. I may stab you."

"You want some coffee, Violet?" Victor offered.

Happy place, Violet. Happy place, "I…I'm good…But thank you. I'm cutting out caffeine."

"Ha, ha," he knew me better. And I could feel the vice grip on my soul, "You're funny, Violet."

"Actually…" Keep it together. Keep it together for the kids, "I'm serious."

"Why?" Even Chris was questioning my sanity. This was definitely a left field for me, but I saw the gears turning in his head, "Why would you ever want to give something so wonderful up?"

"It's better for me," I bit the inside of my cheek. I miss my coffee already, "I'll be fine."

"Good luck." I could do this. It takes two weeks for something to become a habit and three months for it to become routine. I feel like I've read that somewhere.

"I hate to steal your coffee and run, Vi," Victor threw his arms around me, "But I'll miss you. I love you. I'll call you when we land."

"I feel like I've heard that before," I giggled, laying my head in his chest, "And look at that. You're off to do almost the same thing, too."

"Have sex with Chris in a foreign country while you stay home with the boys?"

"Bingo."

"You don't mind, do you, Violet?" Chris hugged me tight.

"He's your husband, Chris," I reminded him, "As long as you two stretch first. That's all I ask. Heaven forbid your trip gets called early because one of you pulled a hammy."

"We will," he promised.

"Good," I saw them to the door, "You two go enjoy Malta and all it has to offer."

"Enjoy having the boys to yourself," Victor gave me one last kiss. Little did he know, I was going to absolutely, one hundred percent, without a doubt, enjoy having the boys to myself. It's been way too damn long and I couldn't wait to see what this week would have in store for us.

 **A/N: And Victor's all worried that Violet won't be able to rise to the occasion. Of course she will. If the caffeine withdrawal doesn't kill her first. I could use some myself right now, but it's knocking on ten o'clock at night where I am right now and I'm struggling to keep my eyes open. So, as much as I'd love to stick around and book club this, I think I'm going to go to bed. See you next chapter! xx**


	21. All I Ever Wanted was the World

My head hurts. Caffeine withdrawal was the ultimate hell. But whatever Master wants...I just needed to find a replacement for it. Sugar, maybe? Sugar might help. For right now, I needed the big ass bottle of aspirin I kept in the cupboard above my stove next to my vodka. If I couldn't have any caffeine, that would be the next best thing. I popped two little blue tablets in my mouth and took a good swallow of water. It's going to be a long however long Mike and I are together. If that's what we even are.

"Morning, Vi," Gene walked in and sat down at my kitchen table.

"Morning," I laid on the counter, hating the world.

"Wow, sweetheart," he worried, "Are you ok? Having one of those don't talk to me until I've had my coffee moments, are we?"

"Uh-huh," I whined into my countertop.

"Well, we can't have that now, can we?" Gene got up and walked over to my coffee pot.

"I can't have any," I sat up, keeping myself from falling back asleep, "Mike says I can't have any caffeine."

"Mike's not here."

"But he'd know," I assured, remembering the reason why he wanted me off it in the first place. Something about delirious sex feeling a million times more intense.

"Whatever, Violet," he shrugged, reclaiming his spot at the table. I couldn't have coffee, so I might as well steal Yurio's apple juice. Maybe that'll help.

"Morning, Mama," the pitter patter of tiny feet echoed across my hardwood floors. Keep it together, Violet. Do it for the kids.

"Good morning, Yuri," I put on a fake smile, sitting one of my boys on my hip, hugging him tight. There's going to come a day where Yuri won't be so little anymore and I won't be able to do this with him. For now, I'll take advantage of these little moments, "Sleep ok?"

"Yeah," Yuri shoved his fist in his eye under his glasses, "Can I have a juice box?"

"Sure, baby," I sat him on the counter and got two juice boxes out of the fridge, "Is your brother still sleeping?"

"I think so," he took his straw and stabbed the hole, "I don't know. He was when I left."

"Ok," I helped him down, "Go sit on the couch and I'll get started on breakfast. what do you want?"

"A bagel."

I took one more look in the fridge. Dammit. I should've gone shopping last night, "Sorry, Yuri. I don't have any bagels."

"I can go get you some, Violet," Gene volunteered, "That's no problem. I wouldn't want Yuri going hungry."

"You don't have to do that," I stopped him, "You're my bodyguard, not my assistant."

"Oh, hush," he insisted, "Don't worry about it. What kind of bagels do you like, Yuri?"

"Um..." Yuri wasn't sure what to say to that. And I completely understood, "Everything...?"

"Me, too, kiddo," Gene gave him a little pop in the jaw, "And what about Yurio? What's his poison?"

"Cinnamon raisin," I told him. Gene really didn't have to do this, yet here he was. I didn't deserve him. Thank you, Celestino. You know how to pick them. And I really hope you're paying him enough.

"And what about you, Vi?" he asked.

"Blueberry," I ordered, "And if you're going to be out, will you stop and get some mascarpone, too?"

"Sure," Gene headed out the door while Yurio came out to greet the day.

"Good morning, dovahkiin," I gave him the other juice box.

"Morning, Mama," Yurio down his apple juice in seconds flat, "Can I have something stronger now, please?"

"Wait," I twitched, "You're wanting coffee?"

"Yes, please," he sat at the table, patiently waiting for me to bring him the nectar of the gods.

"Your dad and your uncle drank it all," I came up with a quick excuse, "Sorry, baby. We're out."

"Aww..." Yurio pouted, "I want some, though, Mama."

"I know," I held him on my hip, "I know. I do, too. But if you can't have any, then I can't have any either. Deal?"

"I guess," he grumbled, "Then, can I have another juice box?"

"Absolutely," I reached into the fridge and pulled out another one, "Well, boys, it's just you and me for the next week. What do we do?"

"I don't know," Yurio shrugged.

"Me either," Yuri joined us at the table.

"Ooh!" Yurio quickly changed his tune, "Can we go to Coney Island?"

"Yeah!" Yuri agreed, "Let's go to Coney Island, Mama!"

"Please?"

"Please?"

"Please?"

"I was thinking that," I admitted. Although, a bunch of screaming children would be miserable on my head and even worse on my mood. Except for one place, "Alright, boys. We can do Coney Island."

"YAY!"

"On one condition..." I stipulated.

"Aww..."

"Honey!" Gene came back with half a dozen bagels in a light blue box and a bag hanging from his wrist, "I'm home!"

"I'm pretty sure Sonia would have a problem with you calling me honey," I assumed.

"Not at all," he promised, sitting the box on the table, "I got two blueberry, two everything, and two cinnamon raisin. Is that alright with you two?"

"Did you bring us bagels?" Yurio peeked in the box, a bead of drool already running down his chin.

"Yes, I did," Gene put the bag on the table, "And Violet, for you, your mascarpone. I got cream cheese, too, just in case you didn't have any."

"Thank you, Gene," I awed, "You really didn't..."

"Hush..." he cut me off, "We'll just chalk this up to you owing me."

"Deal," I felt a little less guilty. But then, a sudden idea popped into my head, "Hey, Gene..."

"Yes, Violet?" Gene pulled up the empty chair, "What can I do for you?"

"It's not what you can do for me," I thought, "It's what I can do for you. Rather, someone you love more than life itself."

"Color me intrigued," he wondered, "What's up?"

"What's Sophie got going on today?" I asked.

"Nothing that I know of," Gene ran through her schedule in his head, "Why?"

"Boys?" I got Yuri's bagel out of the box for him, putting a thin layer of cream cheese on it. I might have lived a floor above them, but I'll be damned if I don't know how my babies take their breakfast, "You up for making a new friend?"

"Sure," Yurio shrugged.

"Ok," Yuri nodded.

"Violet?" Gene's curiosity got the better of him, "What were you planning today?"

"I'm taking Yuri and Yurio to Coney Island today," I explained, "And there's only one place they'll want to go."

"We're going skating!" Yuri beamed, "Right, Mama...?"

"Only if Gene can get Sophie to come along with us," I coaxed, "Come on, Gene. Do it...All the cool kids are doing it."

"Absolutely," Gene confirmed, "I can let the nanny go home early today."

"Awesome!" I grinned, "After breakfast, though. You two don't need to be skating on empty stomachs."

I got up and mixed my mascarpone with a little lemon juice, spreading it on my bagel. Mmm...Gene went to the good bakery a couple blocks from here. If Sonia didn't already have claims on him, I might marry this man. But I have a feeling Mike would have a problem. Well, I didn't intend on skating today, but I can't have my babies and not take them to a rink. I know I'll be doing that all next week, but they needed to skate for fun once in a while, too. Besides, Yurio gets his confidence from showing up other kids at the rink.

After inhaling my bagel, I grabbed a skater dress and some leggings out of my closet and went into my bathroom. My shower was what dreams were made of. Kind of like Mike's shower, but a little better. What can I say? There's no place like home. Speak of the devil, I had a text pop up on my phone from Master.

 _What are you up to today?_

 _-M_

I thought we agreed he'd make himself scarce this week...

 _Taking the boys to practice._

 _-VP_

I left my phone on the counter and got in the shower. Another beep chimed from the speaker, but he can wait. His patience may be thinner than paper, but he does have some. In fact, out of spite, I think I'll even wait to respond after I get dressed. Maybe after I blow dry my hair...Finish getting myself ready...No. Because that's when Master starts double texting and triple texting and getting pissed at me. I don't need that when we see each other again.

 _Usual rink?_

 _-M_

Dammit. I know how this is going to go. Mike wants to see me even though I already told him we wouldn't be seeing much of each other this week. If I tell him we're going to our usual practice rink, I have no doubt he'll just happen to drop by because he was in the neighborhood. I wanted to spend some time with my babies by myself. I didn't need them to see Master's pet. Ever.

 _No. They practice somewhere else._

 _Going dark for the rest of the day._

 _-VP_

Beep!

Goddammit, Mike...

 _Ok._

 _I miss you, pet._

 _x_

 _-M_

I miss you, too, but for now, leave me alone. If I would actually say something like that to him, I'd end up over his knee. I have no doubt. Regardless, I got myself publicly presentable and did a couple spins in the mirror. That's the only reason women wear dresses. Some may say it's because they're breezy. Some may say it's because they feel more feminine. No. That's bullshit. It's so we can spin around and watch the skirt go up because it's too much damn fun. Simple pleasures.

"You look cute today, Vi," Gene complimented, giving me one more spin.

"Thank you!" I chimed, "Yuri! Yurio! You two ready yet?"

"Working on it!" Yurio called out from his and Yuri's bedroom.

"Almost!" Yuri called from their bathroom.

"I'm going to go grab Sophie," Gene said, "Is that ok with you?"

"Yeah," I shooed him out, "Go ahead. Meet back here?"

"Good enough for me," he chirped, "You need anything while we're out?"

"No," I shook my head, "I'm going shopping later anyway. Like I said, you're my bodyguard, not my assistant."

"Maybe you should get one of them, too."

Gene had a point. Maybe I should talk to Celestino and see if I can get an assistant. He's already got Gene on the payroll. I might as well have an assistant, too. That way, I don't have to do my grocery shopping, I'll have someone to manage my schedule (and Yuri and Yurio's, too, if need be), and I can focus all my energy on my skating. That'll be the line that sells it to Celestino. I don't know. I'll think about it.

While Gene was out getting his daughter, I figured I'd do a little narcissistic Google search of myself. Let's see if Doyle Wallace of Skate Weekly Magazine has any other misinformation to leak onto the internet. Hmmm...My Wiki page, my fan page, the infamous picture of me drunk outside of Cosmos...Nothing. Huh...I'm not sure if I'm happy or...disappointed. I didn't drift into obscurity before my season started, did I? Let's check the fan page.

On the top of the site, there was a picture from last year's Junior Grand Prix of me...Along with an adorable little boy from Thailand. Phichit, you angel. I missed him. I'm sure Yuri did, too. They formed a fast friendship last year. Kind of like Yurio and Otabek. Who would've thought my antisocial sons would've made friends the same way I did with their father? Hey! There's a caption!

 _I met Violet Plisetsky last year at the Junior Grand Prix and I was the first one she announced her comeback to._ Actually, Victor was the first person I announced my comeback to. Then, my boys and my coach. Then, Phichit, if I remember correctly. _She's super, super nice in person and people need to stop being so mean to her online._ I think I just found my new favorite PR person. Thanks, Phichit. My Twitter feed had been dead for a while and my Instagram was more food pictures than anything. If he were a little older, I'm sure Phichit would make a hell of an assistant, but to take him off the ice would just be plain cruel.

"Ok, Mama," Yurio came out, plopping down on the couch, "I'm ready to go."

"That's all well and good, baby," I pulled him to my hip, "But we have to wait for Gene to come back. Then, we can leave."

"When will he be back?" he wondered, impatient as all hell.

"Soon, I'm sure," I settled him, "Relax. When Gene and Sophie get back, we can go skate."

"Fine," Yurio pouted, "What do we do until then?"

"Here," I gave him my phone, "Watch through my YouTube account."

"Are all of your old routines online?" he cheered up.

"Even some of mine and Victor's," I added, "Is that good enough for you?"

"Definitely." Yurio fell down a rabbit hole of my old routines and studied each move closely. What a dork. But he was my dork, so it's ok. Then, my body went cold. I hope none of my old burlesque routines were online, "Hey, Mama..."

My heart fell out of my chest, "What, Yurio?"

"What's the Toxic Circus?" he pushed play, letting a familiar violin riff begin, "You look like a doll."

"Nope!" I took my phone back, "You can't watch that."

With the way their policies are, I'm surprised YouTube hasn't flagged that yet.

"Why not?" Yurio whined, "All I did was search your name."

"That's one of my burlesque routines, Yurio," I clarified, "You are way too young for that. Especially for Toxic Circus."

"What's it about?" he let it go.

"It's about a wandering, young girl getting picked up by a traveling circus," I told him, "She had goals and aspirations. She wanted to be a doctor, but some things didn't go the way she planned. She got hooked on the feeling of the crowds and ended up falling in love with the ringmaster. Little did she know, the ringmaster was a terrible man. In the end, the girl realized she was worth more than that and turned the tables on him. Then, she became the ringmaster and ended up killing him."

"Why can't I watch it?"

"Because," I remembered that routine like the back of my hand. And the world saw more than just the back of my hand, "It's violent, it's bloody, it's suggestive, and it'd show more of me than you need to see. That's why I don't like you seeing my Lady Marmalade routine."

"Fine..." Yurio jumped down from the couch and started walking into the bedroom.

"And don't think I won't know if you're watching it while my back's turned!"

"FINE!" he came toddling back out with a familiar angry face. I love him.

"Mama," Yuri came out of the bathroom, "I'm ready. Can we go now?"

"Not yet," I reiterated, "Not until Gene and Sophie get..."

"Violet!" a sweet little girl bounced her way into my lap...and my heart, "Your house is huge! It's so pretty! Are all these rooms yours?"

"Hi, Sophie," I giggled, wrapping my arms around her, "Where'd your daddy go?"

"He's coming," she promised, "Are we really going skating?"

"Yes, ma'am," I nodded, "Yuri, Yurio, this is Sophie. Sophie, these are my boys."

"This is our new friend?" Yurio gave her a look.

"Yes," I glared, "Be nice to her."

"So, they're like my new big brothers?" Sophie guessed.

"We'll wait and see about that," I settled her.

"Sorry, Violet," Gene came in, "She got a little excited when I told her we were going to your place."

"No worries," I assured, "Ready?"

"Hai."

"Da."

"Yes!"

By the sounds of it, all the babies are ready. I grabbed my mint skates and Yuri and Yurio already had theirs in hand. Gene pulled me aside, "Violet, Sophie doesn't have any skates. Didn't you say you were going to let her use a pair of Yurio's?"

"Yeah," I mulled it over, "I'm glad you said something or I would've forgotten."

"Maybe I should quit as your bodyguard," he jabbed, "I do better as your assistant."

"But if you were my assistant," I reached into the front closet and pulled a white box off the shelf, "You wouldn't have known about this. Boys, go wait by the elevator."

"Ok, Mama," Yuri and Yurio started heading down the hall.

"Sophie," I got down to her level, "Come here."

"What is it, Violet?" she gave me a look, "Aren't we going skating?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "But do you have any skates?"

"No..." Sophie was on the verge of tears and I'll be damned if I allow such a thing on my watch.

"Then," I smiled, taking the lid off the box. A pair of bright pink skates laid nicely in the paper, "It's a good thing I got you some, isn't it?"

"Really?!" her face lit up as she took them from the paper, "They're mine? Look, Daddy! Violet got me skates!"

"Yeah, she did," Gene shot me a glare, "Violet..."

"Yes, Gene?" I sat back with a shit eating grin on my face.

His gaze softened a little, "What do say, Soph?"

"Thank you, Violet!" Sophie practically tackled me, throwing her little arms around my neck.

"You're welcome, sweetie," I kissed the top of her head, "Go find Yuri and Yurio, ok?"

"Ok!"

"Violet," Gene pulled me aside again, letting Sophie get ahead, "You didn't have to do that..."

"She might catch a bug," I shrugged, "If she does, it'd be a shame if she lacked the equipment."

"Thank you," he finally smiled again.

"I owed you," I reminded him, "You bought bagels this morning."

"How long have you been sitting on those?" Gene asked.

"Couple days," I thought, "Don't worry about it. Let's go!"

I ran after the little ones and started heading for Coney Island. I haven't been skating with the boys in ages and now, we had the prospects of a new friendship. Yuri and Yurio are going to be good to her. I hope. Anyway…Once we got to the rink, it was like riding a bike. The boys got their skates on and there was no keeping them off the ice. They took off without me. Rude.

"Um, Violet…" Sophie used the bottom of my dress to steady herself, "How do you walk on these?"

"It's like learning to walk in heels," I held her hands, "There was a time when you couldn't walk at all. Then, you got used to it. It's the same way with skates. Keep your balance and you'll be fine. Gene, it's cool if I take her from here, yeah?"

"My ass is not getting on that ice," Gene allowed, "I'd bust something."

"Alright," I walked his daughter onto the rink, "Now, this is the part where we have to be careful. It's going to get slippery, but that's the point."

"I want to see you skate, too," Sophie begged, "Please?"

"You will," I swore, "But you have to get out here first."

"Ok…" she started taking her first wobbly steps out. To no surprise, she fell on her ass, "Ow…"

"You ok, Sophie?" I helped her up.

"Yeah," Sophie rubbed on her hip, "I'm ok."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," a look of serious discouragement appeared on her face. Poor baby. Already? She can't be throwing in the towel now, "I'm alright."

"Hey," I picked her chin up, "What's wrong?"

"I'm not going to be as good as you," Sophie pouted, "I can't even skate a straight line. I'm too little."

"Oh, phooey," I hushed her, "You see Yurio out there?"

"Yeah," she watched Yurio skate around lazily in circles, "What about him?"

"You're only a couple years younger than him," I told, "When I started training him last year, he got so excited to get on the ice that he overlooked the actual skating part. He bit the ice pretty hard, but you know what happened?"

"What…?"

"Watch this," I smiled, "Hey, Yurio!"

"What?" Yurio yelled back.

"Show me your quad toe loop!" I demanded, "Make Mama proud!"

"Ok!" he did a few laps around the rink, building his speed. And with the most perfect form, Yurio executed his jump with a landing so clean, I could eat off it, "Is that good enough?"

"Perfect ten!" I praised, turning my attention back to Sophie, "See that? Yurio kills on the ice now. But there was once a time where he was falling all over himself like you did. That doesn't mean you can't improve. Now, are you ready to get back up and try again?"

"Yeah," Sophie dusted herself off and wobbled a little more.

"And you want to know something?" I went on, "When I first started skating, I fell a lot, too. If you ever see Victor, you can ask him about it. I had really big bruises on my legs for a long time. I still get them now. It's all in the practice. Now, come on. Let's go back, yeah?"

"Yeah!" she got fired up again, "Hey, Violet, will you teach me how to skate like Yurio does?"

"Well," I winced, "I'm preparing for my season now, but after I'm done with competition this year, I will be more than happy to teach you. I'm going to take a little break, but I can get you a good teacher real quick. Yuri!"

"Yeah, Mama?" Yuri skated right to me without another thought.

"Do you think you could help Sophie skate?" I asked, "Just getting around, no tricks."

"Sure," he took her hand, "Come on, Sophie. I can help you."

"Thank you." And the two of them skated off. Aww…It's so cute. I skated over to the partition and folded over it.

"You know, Violet," Gene leaned over the wall, "You really are a good mom. Not just to your kids, but to mine, too."

"Thanks, Gene," I rested my head on his shoulder, "You should've seen me with Chris and Victor in the early days. I was just as much of a mom to them. It's exhausting, but someone has to do it."

"And you do it so well," he threw an arm around me, "You want your water bottle?"

"I want a Monster," I grumbled, "But I'll manage. I'll be fine."

"Hey, Violet!" Sophie got her bearings, skating quickly over to me with her teacher, "You said you skate professionally, right?"

"That's right," I nodded, "What about it?"

"I want to see one of your routines!" she chimed, "Please?"

"You want to see me do a routine?" I wondered. She nodded, almost giving herself whiplash, "Alright. I can do _one._ Yurio! Come here!"

"What, Mama?" Yurio whined, skating over to the partition, "I'm trying to work on my spins. Celestino says they're getting too loose."

"I'm going to need your help." Hopefully, this will boost Sophie's confidence a little, too, "You want to skate with me?"

"Absolutely!" his face lit up, "What are we skating to?"

"I don't know," I thought it over, "What do you want to do?"

"Should we do Primadonna?"

"Whatever you want to do, baby," I allowed.

"Let's do Primadonna!" Yurio grabbed my phone and stole the aux cable. I love how we manage to get in here when the rink is vacant.

"Alright, Yurio," I brought him toward me, "What's the rule here?"

"Don't tell Celestino we're skating together?"

"Bingo."

Primadonna had a whole different meaning for me now. Sure. I had become a little self-centered lately. I'm just having fun. When I heard this song now, my first thought was Master. He made me this way. He turned me into the Primadonna. I just hope he knows what kind of monster he's created. But honestly, I kind of liked this monster. When our song came to an end and both Yurio and I were drained. But the only thing that mattered was that Sophie was over the moon after what she just saw.

"Yay!" she applauded, "That was so good! How do you two do it?"

"We started with dance lessons," I explained, grabbing my water bottle, "Then, it was all practice. It's a lot of work, but in the end, we can do stuff like that."

"I think I can do it!" Sophie smiled, "And you'll help me after this season, right, Violet?"

"That's right," I promised. Have I mentioned how much this little girl has stolen my heart? Because she has.

"Yay!" She's still on cloud nine.

Ring, ring.

"Hold on," I grabbed my phone…Ugh, "I have to take this. Gene, keep an eye on the babes."

"Will do, boss," Gene sent me off.

Ironic he called me boss. I slipped outside for a minute or two, "Hello?"

"Hey, cutie," my heart palpitated. It's amazing how two little words from Master had such a hold on me.

"Mike," I scolded him lightly, making sure not to sound too much like a bitch, "We talked about this. I'm with my boys today and for the next week. You will live without me."

"But I miss you," he whined, "Where are you? I want to see you."

"We were just about to leave," I told him, leaning against the wall, "I'm thinking lunch and going home."

"And I could come see you…?"

"No," I shot him down, "We'll be ok. It's just a week."

"Will we…?" It's weird to hear Master so submissive. It's kind of cute, though.

"Yes," I promised, "Look, I'll call you tonight after the boys go to bed. I have to go."

"Fine," Mike perked up, "I'll be waiting, princess."

"Bye."

Click.

"Hey, Violet," a voice called out to me, "Who was that?"

"Just…" I looked up from my phone screen at some random human being standing in front of me, "Wait, do I know you?"

"Who was on the phone?"

"Gene!" I yelled, "We got a problem!"

"What's up, Violet?" the guy asked, "We're just talking."

"No, you're not," Gene pushed him away, shielding me, "You alright, Vi?"

"Damn vultures," I cringed, "I'm going to get the kids and we'll get out of here."

"Alright," Gene kept the guy away from me while I went back into the rink and rounded up the little ones.

"Come on, guys," I waved, "I hate to cut this short, but we have to go."

"What happened, Mama?" Yuri worried.

"There's a couple reporters outside," I rolled my eyes, "Trying to get some stuff out of me."

"Of course there are," Yurio knew my feelings about press.

"It's just the nature of the beast," I shrugged, taking them out the back door.

"But that's what you have Daddy for," Sophie chimed in, "Right, Violet?"

"Yeah," I held back a smile. That's exactly why I had Gene. Gene would kick the shit out of someone for me. And I really don't know what I'd do without him.

 **A/N: This chapter's long as balls and out later than hell. I'm sorry. But we have the boys back. We have Violet being a mom to everyone. We have Sophie wanting to skate! Everything is fantastic! Yay! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. Good night. See you next chapter! xx**


	22. Homesick

My boys kicked ass on the ice today. Mama couldn't be prouder. To no surprise, they passed out on the way home. Even Sophie fell asleep on me. And I can't blame her. She wasn't doing too bad either once she got the hang of it. Then, again, Yuri is a hell of a teacher when he wants to be. If his professional career doesn't work out for him, I'd love to see Yuri as a coach.

When we got back to my place, Gene laid his daughter down on the couch and pulled the quilt over on her. Yuri toddled sleepily to the bedroom he shared with Yurio while I brought Yurio to my bed. Good night, sweet princes. I would've tucked Yuri in, too, but he was already asleep when I checked on him. My boys. My two little boys that I wouldn't trade for the world. And they were finally back under my roof.

Honestly, I wouldn't mind a nap either. This no caffeine thing sucked ass. I needed to do something to keep myself awake. Come on, Violet. You're alright. Focus on something else. You don't have that headache anymore, so you got that going for you. Focus on the good and the bad won't even be there anymore.

"Look at them," Gene gushed, "They're so cute when they're all tuckered out. Sophie skated her little heart out today, didn't she?"

"She wasn't bad for a beginner," I praised, "I fell on my ass more times than I could count when I first started."

"And Yuri sure took a shine to her," he pointed out, "Those two became best pals quick."

"I know," I gasped, "Yuri doesn't make friends. Like…Ever. That happened once. He usually keeps to himself when he can."

"You have to admit," Gene gave me a nudged, "They're adorable together."

"When she called Yuri and Yurio her big brothers!" I awed, "My god, I melted."

"Me, too," he agreed, scooping her back up in his arms, "I think I'm going to take the little monster home. Are you going to be ok by yourself, Vi?"

"I'll be fine." I'm pretty sure the reporters were going to stay off me for now.

"Are you sure?" he jabbed, "Not going to get into any shenanigans while I'm gone, are you?"

"No," I rolled my eyes, "I promise I'll be fine. While the boys are asleep, I'm going to the market downstairs to pick up a few things. I doubt anyone will give a shit about me buying food."

"Alright," Gene let me go, "Just keep your nose clean, kid, and they won't have anything to report."

"I can see the headline now," I giggled, "Violet Plisetsky, a decent human being."

"What scandal!" he laughed with me, kissing my forehead, "I'll see you later, Vi. Be careful."

"I will," I promised, "And when peanut wakes up, send her my love."

"I will." Gene grabbed his girl and took the elevator. I wasn't too far behind him. I needed to grab my bag first. Before I left, I peeked in on my boys. Both of them were out cold. Good. I left a note on the kitchen counter in case one of them woke up while I was gone.

The market downstairs wasn't too terribly big. And it wasn't exactly directly downstairs. It was maybe half a block down from our building's front door. Hence why I'm not too worried about the boys being home by themselves while I'm here. I might have an hour to myself. This place might not be all that big, but it had what I'd be looking for.

Now…I needed to get more juice boxes. If I'm really cutting out caffeine, I'll be drinking a lot more of it. Maybe I'll grab a bottle of Grey Goose, since Victor was so kind to drink all my damn vodka! No. The little ones are full time right now. I'm not drinking. Wow. No booze, no caffeine. Damn, Violet. Your ass really has gone off the deep end, hasn't it?

I looked through the international section for those shrimp chips from Japan that Yurio liked so much. I remember when we were in Tokyo for competition last year and Yuri tried getting some of his little brother's shrimp chips. Yurio flat out bit him. No remorse. Yuri bled. All because of his shrimp chips. Luckily, there were two bags left on the shelf. These may not be the same as what Yurio had in Japan, but they'll do for now.

"There you are, sweetheart," a familiar voice chilled me to the very core of my being, "I thought I saw you over here."

"Mike!" I threw myself in his arms without thinking.

"Violet…" Even though he embraced me, I knew that tone. That soft, gentle, yet commanding tone, "Little pets should know better than to jump on Master. I understand you're happy to see me, but we ask first."

"I'm sorry, Master." Amazing how quickly I could revert back to that mindset. Even though it's been a few days since I've seen Mike, I was always his pet in the back of my mind. I mean, my god, I had juice boxes for my kids in my basket!

"It's alright," he cradled my face in the palm of his hand, "It's been a while and you miss me. I understand."

"What are you doing here?" I wondered, "You didn't do something creepy like follow me, did you?"

"No, Violet," Mike promised, "I'm not that obsessive. I don't break into your house just to smell your pillowcase. I care about you, but I'm not a stalker. I just happened to be in the neighborhood."

"Really?"

"Really."

I wasn't quite sure why, but I didn't believe him. There's no way Mike doesn't know where I live at this point. In the few months where we've been a thing, he's got to know where I live. Then again, he's never been to my condo before. I've always gone to his place when we play. It's probably a mood killer that my ex-husband and one of his former flings lived just underneath me. Besides, Mike's penthouse was a floor on its own. I still had neighbors. They didn't need to know his name that way.

"So," Mike rocked back on his heels, "You think you could take home more than shrimp chips and juice boxes from this place?"

"Mike…" I let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "You know I can't do that. I got my boys in the middle of a nap and they don't need a complete stranger sitting in their Mama's living room."

"How long would we have before they wake up?" he asked. Was he serious? I ask him one thing. For us to be a little separated while I have Yuri and Yurio for the week. My two little boys would be sleeping and he's inviting himself over?

"No," I stood my ground, "I miss you, Mike. I really do. But some of the things that Yuri and Yurio's Mama gets into doesn't need to come back to Yuri and Yurio. What happens at Cosmos and your penthouse stays there."

"Fine," Mike pouted, "But maybe I could help you with the rest of your shopping?"

"Um, Master…" I smiled, "Do you think I could hold your hand?"

"Since I can't have you on a leash in a public space like this," he mirrored me, slipping his hand into mine, "It'd be my pleasure. It's the least I can do, right?"

And just like that, Mike and I finished up my grocery shopping, taking our sweet time. He wouldn't let me reach for anything and he damn near put me in a cart a few times. Something about him not wanting his pet wandering off because something shiny caught her eye. Although, I must admit, I'm known to get distracted from time to time. But I also had other shit to do today. After I turned all the issues of Skate Weekly Magazine over in line and Mike and I checked out, we started heading back toward my building.

"So…?" Mike offered, "Quickie in the alley? I'm sure we can find a dumpster to block us."

"No," I shook my head, "I have to be getting back. It's getting late and I'm sure the boys are just about waking up."

"Alright," he sighed out, "It's just that…It's not just you that misses me, Violet. I miss you, too."

"I know," I laid my head on his shoulder, "We can do it."

"You think I'll ever properly meet your boys?" Mike thought, making my stomach turn. Something wasn't feeling right about that.

"Well," I explained, "All you need to know is that Yurio's nothing but a bundle of salt to everyone but me. Yuri's really skittish around unfamiliar people, so the odds of you meeting them are pretty slim."

"But Violet," he begged, "Your sons are important to you. You're important to me. And I am to you, right?"

"Of course."

"I'm sure we'll meet one day," Mike assured, "But until then, we should probably part ways."

"We'll be fine."

"You're right," he gave me one strong kiss, holding me tight around my waist, "I'll miss you, my pet."

"I'll miss you, too, Master," I kissed his cheek, "It's just a few more days. We can do it."

"This is why I keep you around, Violet," Mike gave me a little nudge to the jaw, "Such a little beacon of sunshine. Go on. Run home. Be careful."

"I will," I grabbed my bags and went into my building. When I got into my condo, Yurio was already awake and sitting on the couch by himself, playing Mario Kart, "Hey there, dovahkiin. What are you up to?"

"Racing," he played on solo trials, merely driving the tracks by himself. Weird. I do the same thing when I'm in a shit mood. The track layouts were strangely soothing.

"Well," I grabbed the bag of shrimp chips out of the grocery bag and threw the apple juice in the fridge, "I got you a present while I was at the grocery store."

"Yay!" Yurio's face lit up as he paused the game and tossed the controller aside, tearing open the bag, "Thank you, Mama."

"You're welcome, baby," I kissed the top of his head, "Mind if I join in a race?"

"Knock yourself out," he mumbled through a mouthful of shrimp chips, perfectly content with life.

"By the way," I synced my controller, "Where's your brother?"

"Still sleeping," Yurio swallowed hard. That kid needed to learn to chew his food better or he'll end up hurting himself, "We really should skate together more often, Mama. Today was fun."

"It was pretty fun, wasn't it?" I awed, "I miss skating with you, Yuri. I wish Celestino would let us practice together."

"Why doesn't he?"

"You know," I scrolled through the character list, picking my main, Baby Peach, "I think it's so neither one of us gets too distracted. We're both going in strong this year. With me having my comeback and you coming off a silver medal from last year, it's probably for the best that we're separated for now. But don't you worry. There's always the special program."

"Let's make a deal right now!" Yurio decided, "I'll skate your special program with you if you skate my special program with me!"

That caught me a little off guard, but I'm not too surprised. Yurio really did miss skating with me, didn't he? Far be it for me to say no to that face, "Alright, Yuri. I'll be more than happy to skate your special and you are always welcome to skate mine."

"Pinky promise?"

Yurio's innocence was one of those things seldom seen, but when it came out, it always killed me. my heart would be skipping beats and my eyes want to well up with tears, but instead, I gave him a smile, sticking my hands out, "With every pinky I got, kid. Start thinking of a song and we'll talk to Madame about the choreography. Then, we can practice on the side without Celestino knowing."

"Ok!" Yurio linked his pinkies with mine, "Can we play Mario Kart now?"

"I'm not holding back on you."

"I was hoping you'd say that."

I loved this kid. So it began. Yurio and I kicking each other's respective ass, depending on the track. He had an unnatural talent for any Rainbow Road thrown at him and it wasn't fair. A little while later, Yuri toddled out, watching from the sidelines. Yuri got too angry when he played Mario Kart, so the thought of him joining in was nonexistent. This was fun. This was good, clean family fun that I missed having with my babies. It's been way too long…

Ring, ring!

"Hold on," I paused the game in the middle of Moo Moo Meadows, "I need to take this."

"Who is it?" Yurio wondered.

"Hold on," I slid my finger across my phone screen with a smile plastered on my face, "Hi, Victor."

"Daddy!" Yuri squealed.

"Ciao, bella!" I could hear the melting taking place in Victor's heart right now. Yuri had that effect on him.

"Ciao," I beamed, taking the call in the bedroom, "Let me guess. You finally made it to Rome?"

"About two hours ago," Victor reported, "We would've called sooner, but it's ten o'clock here and I didn't realize time differences and we kind of got distracted."

"By what?" I wondered, answering my own question in the next breath, "Never mind. Mile high club?"

"That was over the Atlantic," he admitted, "But no. That wasn't the distraction."

"What was the distraction then?"

"Well," Victor began, "It all started when Chris and I went to go find dinner. Unfortunately, the restaurant we were at had an hour wait time and there was no way in hell either one of us would be able to wait that long. So, we're standing outside, racking our brains for somewhere else to go when that somewhere came to us."

"What do you mean?" I glared at the phone, thoroughly confused. The other end had gone silent, "Victor…?"

"Mama Cialdini sends her love…"

"Lucky you!" I squeaked, "You get Mama Cialdini's cooking?"

"Yeah, I do," I could hear the smug grin on the son of a bitch's face. Celestino's mom was one of the sweetest women to ever exist, but ever piss her off and Hell will rise. I absolutely adored her. She came to me at a very dark period in my life and pulled me out of it. Or should I say she forced me out of it? Victor and I didn't come out of her kitchen for a while…How search and rescue wasn't called will forever baffle me, "Or I did. I'm still in her kitchen and I can't move. She's got Chris on the couch in her living room. There is a slight possibility of us staying here tonight."

"Aww…" I gushed, "I miss Mama Cialdini. I really hope we end up in Rome for competition this year. I need to see her again."

"But," Victor brought us back, "All in all? Everything's good there?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "It's just been me and the boys. Except for earlier this afternoon when I might have taken them and Gene's daughter Sophie to the Coney Island rink."

"Getting in some practice?"

"Actually," I told him, throwing myself on my bed, "I made Sophie a promise that I'd take her skating and you know how Yuri and Yurio are when they're left alone. But everything's fine. We're good."

"Good.

"E quella Violetta (Is that Violet?)?" a sweet, little voice chimed in the background.

"Put me on speaker, Victor," I insisted, hearing the click, "Si, Mama. Buonasera!"

"Violetta!"

"You can't see it right now, Violet," Victor's voice cracked a bit, "But you just brought the biggest smile to this woman's face."

"I can only imagine." I'm a puddle.

"Lasciami parlare con il mia bambina (Let me talk to my little girl!)!" Mama Cialdini begged. Oh, I missed this woman.

"Mama," I scolded, thankful for the Italian her son has taught me over the years. I've heard this come out of his mouth more times than I could count. Especially when he'd call her during practice, "É tardi. Vai a letto (It's late. Go to bed.)."

"Hai ragione (You're right.)," she grumbled, "Victor, anche tu. E tuo marito sta dormendo (Victor, you, too. And your husband is sleeping.)."

"Si, Mama," Victor agreed in all the Italian he knew. God, I hope Chris could translate…I mean, when he's awake anyway.

"Buonanotte, tesoro," I could hear her giving Victor a kiss good night. I so missed that woman, "Buonanotte, Violetta. Ti amo."

"Ti amo, Mama," I couldn't keep a smile off my face if I wanted to. Mama Cialdini is…She's a character all her own. And I couldn't wait to get back to Rome.

"Well," Victor chimed back in, "I'm sorry, Violet, but it looks like we're staying here tonight and if I don't go to bed now, I'm worried Mama will end me."

"That's fine," I giggled, "You know how forceful she can be."

"I know," he chuckled with me, "She may be old, but she can kick ass when she needs to."

"Lozhis spat, Vitya," I demanded, putting on a soft, innocent voice. Never could say no to me when I started speaking his native tongue, "Pozhaluysta…? (Go to bed, Victor…Please?)"

"Da, dorogoy," he promised, "I love you. I miss you. Kiss the boys for me."

"Love you, too," I sat back up on the bed, "I miss you more. And it'll be my pleasure."

"Bye!"

Click.

Damn, I missed him. Even when he was here. I've been spending so much time with Mike lately that Victor's kind of taken a back seat. I missed my best friends. If it weren't for Chris, though, I never would've met Mike in the first place. He's the one that took me to Cosmos. He's the one that got me wasted. He's the one that threw my ass in a cage and told the monkey to dance. We should hang out more when they get back, though. It's a shame we haven't.

For the rest of the night, it was nothing but me and my babies. Yuri was ok enough to play Mario Kart with us. If he got in the rage zone, I made sure to shut that shit down as soon as I could. And usually, it didn't take much. Yuri was a simple creature. Popping a shrimp chip in his mouth worked like a charm, much to his little brother's chagrin. I had to admit, though. It was fun. Nights like this were far and few in between, but a girl could get used to this.

After I put the boys to bed, I ran my bathtub. Skating today took too much out of me and a lot of my old competition wounds decided to come back. Dicks. I did love my bathtub. The warm water enveloped me like a hug and I could fall asleep right here and now. On the same token, I'd rather not drown, so I opened up an e-reader app on my phone and got lost in some Tolstoy. What can I say? I'm feeling a little homesick. Anna Karenina, specifically. A story I've read a million times before, but every time I read it, I'd always find something new.

Ring, ring!

Master is requesting a facetime chat, I see. I tapped the little green circle on my phone screen, "Hi there. Didn't I just see you this afternoon?"

"Yes, you did," Mike's eyes glowed a little deeper green, "Sue me. I missed you. Are you in the bathtub, Violet?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "The boys just clocked out and my body's betraying me."

"Poor baby," he empathized, "I wish I was there with you to make it all better."

"Me, too," I agreed, "You give a hell of a massage."

"And I'd give you an even better bath," Master flirted, "I was just about to go to bed. Think of me tonight, ok?"

"I will," I promised, "I think I'm going to go to bed, too."

"In that case," he smirked a bit, "Shall we go through the motions?"

"But you're not here," I pointed out.

"Doesn't mean I can't guide you through it," Master insisted, "Take off your collar, Violet. You've had a long day and we wouldn't want your hair getting caught in the chain while you're asleep."

"Yes, sir," I unhooked the clasp holding my choker against my throat.

"Good girl," he praised, "Now, get out of the bathtub."

"Yes, sir," I wrapped myself up in a towel and started heading to my bedroom.

"Go on," Master ordered, "Lay down on the bed. Get comfortable."

"Master," I asked, "Can I put my pajamas on?"

"I don't know…" he thought for a minute, "Yeah. Go ahead. I'm not there to appreciate anything."

"Thank you, sir," I dug around in my pajama drawer and got a big t-shirt and a pair of pajama pants. I could live infinitely happy in pajama pants.

"Now," Master continued, "I want you to crawl into bed and lay down."

"Like this, Master?" I got into bed and pulled my quilt over my shoulders.

"That's my girl," he approved, getting into his bed with me, "Good night, my pet. My good, little pet. Make sure you think of me, ok?"

"Yes, sir," I kissed the screen, "Good night, Master."

My phone screen went black. Good night, Mike…

 **A/N: Yay! Before I go on and talk about anything else in the story, I absolutely ADORE Celestino's mom. She's so damn cute. And she loves Violet. Do we remember why? I'm not telling you. You should know from the last story what Mama Cialdini means to Violet. The entire world. And if we end up in Italy for competition, I pinky promise will give Mama Cialdini her moment in the sun. Because she deserves it!**

 **Now, my neck is killing me. I'm tired as balls. I think I'm going to call it a night. See you next chapter! xx**


	23. Keep Your Balance

"Mama..." a little voice spoke.

"Mmm..." I rolled over, going back to sleep. Last night was a rough one. I'd wake up in the middle of the night with random aches and pains all over the place. That's what happens when I skate and don't stretch a little first. I could still feel it days later. The screams of my physical therapists can be heard around the world and in every language.

"Mama..." Yurio, I think.

"What?" I growled. As much as I love him, he needs to go back to bed.

"We got practice this morning."

SHIT! I bolted out of bed. I did, too. I totally forgot I had to juggle the boys, too. Alright. We could do this. Yurio was pretty self-sufficient. Yuri, too. And what Yurio couldn't do for himself, Yuri wouldn't hesitate to help him out. Even though, I'd occasionally have to go in behind him and take care of it. Right now, that didn't matter. I made the boys their respective bagels and let them eat breakfast while I got in the shower.

Dammit, Mike. Why'd you have to cut off my caffeine? I was running on autopilot as it is. A little boost of rocket fuel would've been nice. Instead, I popped a couple of aspirin to kill the headache and pulled my ass together. As I pulled my leggings up, I stuck my head out the bathroom door, "Hey, Yuri!"

"Yeah?" I had two voices answer me back. At this point, I didn't care who answered me. Either one would know.

"Do I take you to practice or does Celestino?" I asked, almost falling over.

"You!"

Shit...Well, I had practice, too. But the boys went to the rink before they did dance lessons. And I'm sure Celestino took them to their dance lessons. In fact, I'm sure of it. Except for when Victor had Yuri. Then, Victor took care of everything. But Victor was probably in Malta by now. Come on, Violet. You can do this. You managed while Victor was skating his last season. You can do that all over again. That's all this is. Sure, it's a little overwhelming, but I can do it. I grabbed the boys and dropped them off at the rink. Celestino was waiting for them inside.

"Morning, Violet," he looked me over, "Dio mio, bambina. You look awful. Are you ok?"

"Ish," I shrugged him off, "No. Not really. I'll live, though."

"You do know you can ask for help if you need it," Celestino offered, "I'm only a phone call away. You don't need to overdo it."

"Thanks, Coach," I rested my head on his shoulder, "I appreciate the sentiment, but I'm fine. I'm just being a baby."

"Are you sure?" he worried.

"Yes," I nodded, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get to my dance lesson. I'm late already and Madame's going to have my ass on a silver platter."

"Godspeed," Celestino sent me off.

I kissed my babies and left them in the capable hands of my coach. Now, to face Madame. She's going to kill me. I'm ten minutes late and running on hardly any sleep. She's going to end me. Hey, God? If you could do a girl a solid and let her live through her dance practice and not be strangled at the hands of her dance teacher, that'd be really cool. When I walked in, Madame was already sitting on the stage, twiddling her thumbs, waiting for me.

"I'm so sorry, Madame," I apologized all over myself, "I had to take Yuri and Yurio to Celestino and it's been a day already."

"Violet, relax," Madame settled me, "I don't know about you, but I like to start off with good morning. What's got you so wound up, baby?"

"I've been single mom-ing it these days," I sat on the edge of the stage with her, "I didn't get any sleep last night. Even worse, I've had to cut caffeine out. I'm exhausted."

"Oh, sweetheart," she hugged me tight, "Don't you worry. I got you."

"What do you got?" I wondered as she dug around in her bag.

"Here," Madame handed me a dark bottle, "It's vitamin B-12. If you can't have caffeine, this is going to be your friend. Take one of these and you'll be fine. It'll give you a bit of a boost. Starting right now."

"I love you, Madame," I rested my head on her shoulder, swallowing one of the tablets from the bottle. God bless her for finding the loophole in Mike telling me no caffeine.

"I love you, too," she kissed my forehead, "Now, let's do this, ok?"

"Yes, ma'am," I jumped down from the stage and the two of us got to work. Sure, Madame might have worked my ass to the bone, but it'll totally be worth it when I'm back at the Grand Prix Final again. It'll be worth it. That is, if the asshole press doesn't destroy my reputation beforehand. I still wanted to meet Doyle Wallace from Skate Weekly Magazine and curb stomp his balls until he couldn't see straight. Maybe one day.

Once I was done with Madame, I started heading back to the rink. Either I was going to take Yuri and Yurio to their dance lesson or Celestino would. My money was on Celestino. He had a strange look in his eyes when I dropped the boys off this morning. Pity. I didn't like that. I could take care of my boys. That's no problem. It never has been and it never will be. Nothing I hate more than when people doubt me. ESPECIALLY when it has to do with Yuri and Yurio.

On the plus side, though, that B-12 Madame gave me was finally kicking in and I started feeling a million times better. Really and truly, thank GOD for that loophole. This whole no caffeine thing was making me want to fling myself into traffic. The things we do for Master, I guess.

Ring, ring.

Hey. Speak of the devil. There's a voice I wouldn't mind hearing. I turned my charm up, "Good morning, Master."

"Good morning, princess," Mike melted, "What are you up to?"

"Currently?" I thought, "On my way to practice. We may have to make this short."

"Out of curiosity," he wondered, "You wouldn't happen to be wearing your warm ups right now, would you?"

"Yeah..." Weird.

"White top, green bottoms?"

"Yeah..." Really weird.

But then, I felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist and a pair of lips on the top of my head. Ok. That makes more sense, "Hi, sweetheart."

"I swear you're stalking me," I teased, hanging up my phone and throwing it back in my bag.

"I'm not stalking you," Mike promised, "You know it's not safe for a young lady like yourself to wander around these streets alone. Traveling sans bodyguard today, are we?"

"It's Gene's day off," I explained, "It's cool. I told him I'd be alright. I could've used his help this morning, but we're good."

"What happened this morning?" he perked up.

"Things got a bit hectic," I settled him, "The boys almost missed their practice time and I almost missed my dance practice. We're fine."

"That's good," Mike took my hand, "You know, I missed you."

"We just saw each other the other day," I giggled.

"I know," he whined, "But I like seeing you regularly. It's been hard these past few days. You said you were on your way to practice, right?"

"Yeah."

"Do you think I could come watch?" Mike asked, "I know your coach says your practices are closed, but I can hide in the back. He won't know I'm there."

"It's fine with me," I allowed, "Just make sure Celestino can't see you."

He stopped me in front of the door, just to look me over, "Huh."

"What?" I started to get a little nervous.

"You're weirdly uppity, Violet," Master took over, "You're not doing something silly like drinking caffeine, are you? Because I remember specifically telling you not to. And you're my good girl, right?"

"I haven't had any, Master," I promised, "It's just a vitamin. I promise."

"Oh." He looked like I just punched him in the stomach. Only I felt the punch.

"What?"

"I don't remember telling you that it was ok to put those kinds of unnecessary chemicals in your body," Master thought, "Other than delirious sex, why else do you think I told you to cut out caffeine?"

"Come on, Mike," I begged, "I'm dying here. The withdrawal headaches are a bitch and I'm having trouble functioning."

"Violet, you're fine," he assured, grabbing the door for me, "Now, go to practice."

"Yes, sir." He's pissed. I could smell it. Mike's pissed. He'll get over it. They're just vitamins. They're good for me. They're not unnecessary if they're helping me get along in my day to day life and keeping me from killing people. When we walked in, Mike found a hiding spot and I went down to the rink. Yuri and Yurio were just coming back in.

"Mama!" Yurio found me first, jumping into my arms.

"Hey, baby," I hugged him tight, "You do good at practice today?"

"Yeah!" The kid was still pretty fired up, I see.

"Hey, Coach," I called out, "Are you taking the boys to their dance lessons or am I?"

"I am," Celestino decided, "You can manage to warm up without me here to nag you, can't you?"

"Of course I can," I scoffed, dropping my bag on the bench and my son on his feet, "I love you. Go on. Make me proud, boys."

"Ok, Mama," Yuri hugged me tight, then Yurio shortly after, and Celestino took them to their respective dance teachers. He did say he wanted me to warm up by myself. I can do that! I threw my phone on shuffle and put my skates on. But then, my music cut out from a beep. Text? Who the hell...?

Locker room. Now.

-M

I saw Mike get up from his hiding spot in the stands and start walking toward the locker room. I knew I was in trouble and I knew Mike wouldn't hesitate to be a voyeur, but I didn't think he'd do anything in this public of a place. Regardless, I was summoned. And who was I to piss master off even more? I've been denying him for a few days. I've been prioritizing someone else over him. I found a loophole to one of his commands. If I don't come out of practice with a bruise on my ass from falling on the ice, it'll be from him.

"Good girl, pet," Master praised as I walked into the locker room, "You know how I love it when you listen."

"So," I wondered innocently, "Why did you ask me in here?"

"Where are you keeping your vitamins, Violet?" Wow. No foreplay.

"In my bag," I gave him a look, "Why?"

"I want you to go get them for me," Master ordered, "Go on, pet. It's like a game of fetch. Get the bottle of vitamins from your bag for me."

"Yes, sir," I ran back to the rink and back to the locker room in no time flat with the bottle in hand, "Did I do good, Master?"

"Yes, you did," he patted my head, "Now, you and I need to have a little talk, my pet."

"What is it?" I cozied up to him, resting my head on his leg, batting my eyelashes. Hopefully, that'll lessen the blow a bit.

"You don't need drugs, Violet," Master dumped the bottle down the sink, running the water over them. My loophole...It's going down the drain, "I'm disappointed you thought you did. I asked you to do one simple thing, pet. Stay off caffeine for a little while. It looks like I overestimated you. Now, I want you to drop to your knees and grab the bench."

"Yes, sir," I did as I was told. this wasn't going to be pretty. I took one long, deep breath in anticipation.

"I want you to count these out, Violet," he pulled my leggings down my thighs, stopping at my knees. My ass wasn't completely out, but damn near, "Do you understand why I'm doing this, pet?"

"Because I started taking vitamins without your permission?" I assumed.

"That's my smart pet," Master praised, "And because you were finding a workaround for a direct order from me. Do you not trust that Master knows what's best for you? Do you think Master can't take care of you?"

"Of course not," my grip around the bench tightened, along with a knot in my stomach. I couldn't believe how guilty he could make me feel for taking one little vitamin. It's soul crushing. I deserve what's coming to me.

"Are you sure?" his hand twitched behind me, "Are you sure you aren't having second thoughts?"

"Yes, sir."

"Do you still want me to be your master, Violet?"

"Yes, sir."

I caught Master smiling in the mirror, "I'm glad to hear you say that. Because I don't want you to go. I can't say that I enjoy punishing you, sweetheart, but this can't be overlooked. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," I bit the inside of my cheek.

"We're going to do this three times," Master decided, "Are you ready? Nod."

I nodded once, bracing myself for the first one. It always stung the worst. I never could expect when it's coming. Come on, Violet. Happy place. Think back to the first time you went back to Cosmos by yourself. You got drunk and got back in the cage. That was a fun night. I had my first night with Mike that night.

"ONE!" A sudden sting on my ass snapped me out of my headspace.

"Very good," he rubbed a little of the pain away, "A little quieter, though, Violet. We wouldn't want the staff to get involved, would we? I mean, there's a time and a place for an orgy, but a skating rink locker room isn't one of them."

Whipppp!

"Two…" I whimpered, doing my best to stay strong. My legs were about to give out from under me. Master's hand has gotten a lot heavier since the last time we did this. It hasn't been that long, has it?

"You can let go." What the hell? That was unexpected, "You took the last one pretty well, Vi. I know you can probably hold out for one more, but I'm not going to do that. I think I've made my point. Come here, sweetheart."

Master sat on the floor with me, allowing me into his lap. I bundled up between his legs and laid my head in his chest. I still had a full practice to do today, so the omission of number three was greatly appreciated, "Thank you, Master."

"Even though I've granted you mercy this one time," he assured, holding me a little tighter, "Don't think it's going to happen every time. And I really can't wait for us to be back together again. How long until that happens?"

"They're supposed to be back on Thursday," I did a quick check of my mental calendar.

"Just a few more days then," Master kissed the top of my head, "I have to get back to the office, but I want you to be a good girl while I'm gone. Don't think that just because I'm not here doesn't mean I won't find things out. Are you going to be good for me?"

"Yes, Master," I cuddled into him, not wanting him to leave.

"Good," he gave me one last kiss, "Now, go to practice. Make me proud. You're an amazing skater, Violet. I'd hate to see that go to waste."

Mike helped me off the floor and sent me back out to the rink. My ass was still killing me, though. I could get through it. Go practice, get the boys, go home. Simple as that. Then, I'll turn on the hot tub and kill the afternoon right there. Yuri and Yurio knew what they could and couldn't get into. They knew where everything was. They knew where I'd be.

"Violet," Celestino looked pretty frantic, "Where the hell were you? I thought you just left."

"No," I settled him, "I was in the bathroom."

"Alright." I could see all over his face. He knew I wasn't telling him everything. I wonder if I had the same look on my face as he did whenever I'd catch him coming out of a cathouse at two in the morning, "Hey, Violet."

"What?" I stretched again, doing anything to distract myself from the tingling on my ass.

"Are you alright?" Celestino wondered, "Really?"

"Yeah," I brushed him off, "Why?"

"You look exhausted," he pointed out, taking my hand, "And you were only warming up."

"So, I went a little too hard," I shrugged.

"But your stamina's better than that…"

"I said I'm fine!" I snapped, taking my blade guards off, "Can I get back to skating, please?"

"Yeah," I caught Celestino off guard. He wasn't anticipating me getting so pissed. But I'm sick of people asking me the same damn question all the time. I can do this. _Quit doubting me._

 **A/N: It seems Violet's going through a bit of a roller coaster right now. Fear not, friends, she'll be alright. At least I hope so. She might be next week. Hold on. Let me check the outline…OOH! I forgot about that part! I can't wait for next week now! Because next week is going to be a wonderful update. I pinky promise. And for those of you who are going to be naysayers and say, "Lumi, you didn't check the outline. You probably haven't even started it." Homeboy, I got the next four chapters already outlined. Don't even with me. See you next chapter! xx**


	24. Homecoming

Practice and lessons kicked the shit out of me on a normal day. When I have lessons, then Master pissed off at me, THEN practice, my ass is done. My legs were killing me. My ass still hurt. My entire body was giving me one great, big middle finger and I am not here for this. By the looks of my boys, especially the youngest one of the two, I'm not the only one hurting here.

"Mama," Yurio whined, struggling to drag himself across my living room, "I'm sore."

"Me, too, Kid," I agreed, "Do you know how to turn on my hot tub?"

"Da."

"Go turn it on," I demanded, "Put your trunks on. Trust me. You'll feel a lot better when you get out. Yuri? What about you? You doing ok?"

"I'm ok," Yuri curled up on the couch, his skates leaning against the coffee table. He was always the more resilient one when it came to taking hits, "I only fell once at practice. Yurio fell three times."

"Shut up, piggy!" Yurio snapped, "No one asked you!"

"Yurio!" I scolded, "Balcony. Now. Shut the door behind you."

"Yes, Mama," he did as he was told while I sat on the couch with his brother.

"Mama," Yuri worried, almost asleep, "Am I in trouble?"

"Well, Yuri," I pulled him into my lap, "I appreciate you telling me about Yurio's injuries. God knows he won't. But he's probably thinking you're bragging about how well you did at practice."

"I was just saying what happened," he quivered. My poor baby. Whenever I raised my voice like that, it always rattled Yuri a little harder than anticipated, even if it wasn't directed at him.

"I know," I draped my arm around him, doing my best to offer a little comfort, "But learn to read a room, sweetheart. Yurio's hot and sore and tired. That's going to make him a little cranky. We don't need to make that worse. Understand?"

"I think so," Yuri let out a tiny yawn.

"You want to take a nap, baby?" I assumed.

"Yeah..."

"Ok," I pulled the afghan over him and kissed his forehead, "Love you, Yuri."

"I love you, too, Mama..." And he's out...

Now, to diffuse the little bomb in my hot tub. Yurio was already in and laying over the side. Still a little pouty, but he looked awfully comfortable. I left him alone for a minute to slip into a swimsuit myself. Yuri was napping. I could get a little quality time with his little brother. And maybe, just maybe, I could knock some of that salt off him. What better to do that with than a juice box and a hot tub?

"Here, dovahkiin," I gave Yurio his regularly scheduled, post practice apple juice, "How's that hot tub treating you?"

"Like a god," Yurio groaned, content with the world.

"I told you," I joined him, "I've been at this a little longer than you. I know all kinds of things."

"You're so smart, Mama," he laid his head on my shoulder.

"Thanks, Yuri," I kissed the top of his head, "So, you'll pretty much believe anything I tell you?"

"Just about everything," Yurio grew skeptical, "Why?"

"You're too hard on yourself," I pointed out, "Just because Yuri reports your hit count doesn't mean he did better than you did. It just means you put out more risk than he did. What move's got you tripped up?"

"I..." he wasn't sure what to make out of the nugget of wisdom I just dropped. The gears turned, but the axles weren't attached. I love this kid, "I want to put in more quads, but Celestino won't let me. And when I try them, he gets mad at me."

"Because he doesn't want you to get hurt in the preseason," I held back a little smile, "I remember that all too well. Celestino did the same thing to me when I first started skating."

"That explains why he almost called me Violet today," Yurio giggled, seeing the irony in this, too.

"But you want to know what I did?"

"What?"

"I still tried them anyway," I told him, "Even though my coach wouldn't let me, I found someone else that would help me out."

"Who was that?"

"Who do you think?" There was no holding it back anymore. A big smile stretched across my face. The nostalgia was too strong.

"Victor," Yurio grumbled, "But I don't think he'll teach me quads because I'm too little."

"Which makes now the perfect time to teach you quads!" I squeaked, "You're little, you're more aerodynamic, your center of gravity is lower. Tell you what. If you can keep secrets from Celestino, every weekend from now until your first competition, I will take you to the Coney Island rink. We can practice quads there."

"I wish you could just go back to being my full-time coach," he let out a heavy sigh. You and me both, kid, "You wouldn't hold me back."

"But here's another thing about Celestino," I went on, "Celestino doesn't hold you back. He protects you from yourself. He'll keep you from biting off more than you can chew. He's a pretty good judge of that."

"I guess you're right," Yurio yawned a bit.

"I think it may be naptime for you, too," I assumed, "Before you fall asleep in here."

"And what would be so bad about that?" he cuddled into my ribs.

"It's not good for you," I scooped him up, "Come on. Let's get you dried off and into a bed."

"Can I nap in your bed?"

"Of course." Like I would tell him no.

And that's the way things were for the next week. Me waking up in a panic. Us rushing to the rink. Me killing myself at lessons, then at practice. All my vitamins went down the sink and getting more was out of the question. After our tryst in the locker room, Master made it very clear how he felt about that. By the end of the week, I was completely drained. But for my boys and for life to feel kind of normal again? Totally worth it. It was nice being old Violet for a while, but being their Mama again was even more humbling. Not that I ever stopped. It just got abbreviated.

That Saturday morning, I promised myself that my ass was sleeping in. If I saw ten o'clock, it'd be too early. It'd have this one day off. I had to help Yurio with his quads on the down low come Sunday. Master still says I can't have any boosts. I'm wrecked. Then, like an instant relaxer, I felt a warm body pressed against my back. At first, I thought Mike found out where I lived. When would he? It's not like he ever followed me home. Then, with just a few words, everything became perfectly clear.

"Dobroye utro, dorogoy," a gentle Russian accent rumbled in my ear, "Ya doma."

Like a reflex, I cuddled into him, "Welcome home, Victor."

"Oh, Violet," Victor held me tight against his chest and I absolutely reveled in it, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," I babbled deliriously into his shoulder, "What time is it?"

"A little after six." If you were anyone else, Victor, you'd be getting the pen on my nightstand jabbed in your throat, "I just came by to get the boys. Why don't you go back to sleep?"

"My pleasure," I wasn't letting go. Victor was one hell of a pillow.

"I promise," he peeled me off him. Damn, "We'll play later. Now, go back to sleep, ok?"

"Ok," I nestled down into my bed.

Victor pulled my blankets over me and gave me a little kiss on my cheek, "Good night, sweetheart. I love you."

"Love you, too," I shut my eyes and fell back asleep. My boys were home. I could sleep a little harder now.

When I woke up again, it was almost one. And I had a text on my phone from my favorite ex-husband requesting my presence at the café a couple of blocks from our building. Alright. I can do that. After a quick shower and I threw on one of the million skater dresses that inhabited my closet, I took the elevator down to the lobby and walked outside. It's so nice out today. I can't believe I was going to waste the day catching up on sleep.

"There you are, sweetheart," Victor greeted me, pulling me into his chest, "I'm starting to think you caught my jetlag."

"Ha, ha," I laughed sarcastically, taking a seat at our table. The two cups at our table worried me, though, "What do we have here?"

"I know you're on a no caffeine kick," he assured, "It's decaf. I promise."

"Still a flat white, though?" I wondered.

"What else would I get for you, Violet?" Victor smiled, "Now, sit. I need to know how things went."

"What do you mean?" I sipped on my coffee. Hello, old friend. I almost forgot how good you tasted.

"I've been gone for an entire week," he pointed out, "What happened? What did I miss?"

"It's been pretty quiet around here," I shrugged, "I'm sorry if you were expecting the boys and me to go off on a grand adventure. We did end up at Coney Island once and they made a friend."

"Our boys?" Victor gave me a look, "They only make friends at events and even that is farfetched."

"Gene's little girl came with us," I explained, "And hold onto your hat for this one. Because she got really close with Yuri."

"Yuri made friends?" I thought Victor's eyes were about to come out of his head, "Our little, antisocial, anxious Yuri made friends with a little girl?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Sophie wanted me to teach her to skate and Yuri did more of the teaching than I did."

"You should've warned me before you drop that kind of bombshell," Victor shook, "Jesus. I'm gone for a week and Yuri becomes a social butterfly."

"I wouldn't say that," I clarified, "Sophie's not exactly the overly social type either. It took her a second to warm up to me, but when she did, we were instant best friends."

"Hey, Vi," his thoughts took a hard left. It's good to see Malta didn't change him, "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure," I allowed, "Shoot."

"Well," Victor smirked, "I say ask. You, more or less, have no choice."

"Excuse me?" I perked up, "Victor, what the hell are you talking about?"

"Nothing bad," he settled me, "It's our first night back. I was kind of hoping we could do family dinner like we used to."

My heart turned into a puddle. Before Victor hung up his skates and we had a minute to ourselves, it'd be the five of us around the dinner table. And it didn't matter what we were eating. We were all together. I missed those days, "Absolutely. I can't say no to that, Victor. You know that. Besides, I want to hear about your Malta trip. And I'm sure Mama Cialdini had a mouthful to say."

"Because my Italian's so stellar," Victor giggled, "All I can say is thank God I had Chris there."

"You mean, you didn't learn from Celestino?" I wondered, "Come on. We skated together for three years. You can't tell me you didn't pick something up from him."

"Unless it was some sort of cursing or praise," he admitted, "I have nothing. Maybe a few basic things."

"You try," I let him go, "Wait a second!"

"What?" Victor jumped.

"You're cooking, right…?" I hoped. Victor's pelmeni still haunted my dreams.

"Of course I am."

"Awesome…"

I really did miss hanging out with Victor. We used to be so close, but then, our divorce got in the way. It's a shame. Why did we let that happen? And then, even more so, how did it happen? I adore him AND his husband and we've been best friends for years. Then again, I also started seeing someone else, too. Master is kind of territorial. It's just Victor, though. We really needed to hang out more.

After I got home, I just had to wait until eight. Then, Victor's pelmeni would be in my stomach and I would be a happy, happy girl. The planets will align. The beacons will be lit. And the world will truly achieve peace. Because Victor's cooking had that effect on the world. Or it's just been a super long time since I had it and that withdrawal is worse than the caffeine.

Ring, ring.

Oh, hell…Who is this? I dug my phone out of my bag and if I didn't answer it immediately, the locker room would look like Disneyland, "Hello?"

"Hi, Violet," Mike answered, "What are you doing right now?"

"Laying on my couch," I reported, "Thinking about shutting my eyes for a bit."

"What?" he wondered, "The boys not there to keep you awake?"

"No," I rubbed my eyes, "They went back with their dad and their uncle this morning."

"In that case…" Oh, shit. Violet wasn't thinking. Mistakes were made, "Are you busy tonight?"

"Actually," I bit my lip, "I am."

"Alright," Mike was surprisingly cool about that, "What about tomorrow?"

"I have a thing tomorrow morning," I told him, "But tomorrow night, I'm free. Keep in mind, though, I have practice Monday morning."

"I can do tomorrow night," he agreed, "What do you have planned tonight?"

Because I didn't want to poke that bear too much, I kept Victor out of it, "Dinner with the family tonight. I can't miss that."

"I understand," Mike allowed, "It's a little early for me to be meeting your parents anyway. There's always tomorrow night. And I cannot wait to see you tomorrow night."

The choker around my neck started to feel tighter, "I'll see you then."

"You sure will…"

Click.

Even though going back to Mike's made me a little nervous, I couldn't wait. A little physical release after the week I had wouldn't be a half bad idea. He got me hooked on the feeling of sheer ecstasy that only he could give me in that special kind of way. Now, I understood why he got around so much with not one bad review in the bunch.

Later that night, I dropped a floor and shook my head when I realized Chris and Victor left their door unlocked. Our building was pretty safe, but one can never be too careful. Although, the rich smell of Russian food from the other side of this door was absolutely intoxicating. Hang in there, stomach. You will likely double in size and your coach is going to bitch at you for gaining weight, but we'll be alright. This is totally worth it.

"Hello?" I stuck my head inside, getting the full experience. Mmm…I'm home.

"Violet!" my favorite Swiss man scooped me up in his arms, "Mon ami!"

"Christophe!" I beamed, surrendering to his embrace. Oh, yeah. I'm home. Bonsoir chéri!"

"I missed you so much!" Chris was damn near breaking me in half, "We have so much to tell you!"

"One thing at a time," I settled him, "But I missed you, too."

"Violet!" Victor called for me, "Can you come here? I need you to test something for me."

And just like that, I was brought back seven years in the past. My boys, my incredible Russian food. I truly was home. Things only got worse as the boys joined us at the dining room table. Chris and Victor went on about their trip to Malta while Yuri and Yurio would start petty skirmishes between each other and Makkachin laying on the floor around the table, waiting for anything to drop. It was just like when Chris and Victor would come back from competition. And my eyes might be watering a little.

"Violet?" Chris picked up on it, "Are you alright?"

"Yeah," my voice broke. Shit. Not good. I cleared my throat, "Yeah. I'm great."

"Hey, Violet," Victor put his friend hat on, too, "I want you to meet a friend of mine after practice tomorrow. She's sweet as pie and you'll love her. I promise. Is that ok with you?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Sure. Wait, what practice?"

"Yurio said he had practice with you tomorrow," he looked over at our son, poking at a half-eaten pirozhki on his plate.

"He does," I gave Yurio the same look, "Yurio…I thought that was between us."

"I had to tell someone," Yurio squeaked, "I thought Chris and Victor would be ok."

"They're fine," I let it slide. It's not like they weren't going to find out eventually.

After I finished stuffing my face and the world could spin again, I wobbled my fat and happy ass back to my place and threw myself onto the couch. No, Violet. You can't stay here. If you do that, you'll fall asleep here. If you fall asleep on the couch, you'll wake up in your own personal hell and you don't deserve that. Come on…A little momentum and you can get up. Luckily for me, I have the greatest ex-husband in the history of mankind. On the counter sat a clear glass bottle and a note.

 _I did kill your last bottle._

 _And a little side trip to St. Petersburg won't kill anyone._

 _-V_

Victor Nikiforov, I love you. And your Russian hospitality. I went in the fridge and poured a little glass of lemonade. A little of that…And a little of this…I popped the top on the bottle. Mmm…Sweet, sweet Russian hospitality. Hello, old friend. Nothing like a little night cap to help a girl sleep. With my vodka lemonade in hand, I headed off to bed.

 **A/N: Which is what I should be doing right about now. But! Chris and Victor are home! Yay! And we can return to our regularly scheduled lives. I missed Chris and Victor. I couldn't have them two gone for too long. And Violet's going to go back into Mike's arms for a while, too. Will being back with Yuri and Yurio for a while bring balance back to Violet's life or is she going to go back to what got her in trouble in the first place? The world may never know. See you next chapter! xx**


	25. Lost in the Cosmos

**A/N: Hi, guys! Just a forewarning, this is going to be a really heavy chapter. Hang in there, friends. I love you.**

Good morning, world! My god, I felt good. I'm not quite sure why I felt so good, but I think I may have gotten enough sleep for a change. My joints aren't hating me and my muscles aren't throbbing. I don't know what it is and quite frankly, I don't care. I jumped out of bed, had a quick shower, and walked into the kitchen. Ok. First order of business: Breakfast. Definitely breakfast. If I'm taking Yurio to the Coney Island rink to practice his quads, I need something in my tummy first.

"Morning, Gene," I grabbed my cream cheese and half a lemon out of the fridge. My bagels were in the bread box, right? Ah! Got them!

"Morning, Violet," Gene gave me a look, "You're awfully cheery, hon. What's the occasion?"

"No occasion," I sang, "I can't be in a good mood?"

"I'm not complaining," he approved, "It's just odd and sudden. New meds?"

"Nope," I made my bagel, "Only high on good, old-fashioned life. How are you?"

"Confused and frightened," Gene worried, "Are you sure you're ok?"

"Yes!" I giggled, grabbing my skates and my practice bag, "Come on. We have to go get Yurio."

"Oh?" he followed me out the door, "What's the plan for today?"

"Yurio wants to kick ass with his quads," I told him, getting into the elevator, "So, I promised him that I'd help him. Celestino doesn't want him doing the bigger tricks and when he tries in practice, he gets yelled at."

"Why?"

"Probably because he doesn't want Yurio getting hurt," I figured, "But he's pretty resilient. That's why he asked me to help him. Because he knows I'll let him try."

"Always the loving mother," Gene awed, "Let me guess. Celestino doesn't need to know about this, does he?"

"That'd be really cool of you, Gene," I went up to Chris and Victor's door, leaving my bag and skates outside, "I'll be right back."

"Alright," he leaned against the wall, waiting for me while I got my son.

"Good morning, Violet," Chris sat in the kitchen by himself, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I'm here for my youngest baby," I kept my reasons to myself, "He's awake, isn't he?"

"I think I heard him stirring," he assumed, "What are you two doing today?"

"What?" I jumped on the defensive, "I can't casually hang out with Yurio without having my motives questioned?"

"Only curious," Chris settled me, "The last thing I want is for Victor to wake up in a panic because one of our boys is missing."

"Victor's still asleep?" I wondered, "I thought all the world travel he's done over the years made him immune to jetlag."

"You'd think so," he agreed, "But this time, it's hitting him harder than it ever has before. I wonder what's changed."

"Mama?" Yurio poked his head out of the hall.

"Hey, baby," I smiled, "Ready to go?"

"Absolutely," he threw his bag over his shoulder.

Chris looked up at me with a shit eating grin, "Just hanging out casually, are we?"

"Yes," I stood my ground, "We're just hanging out casually."

"With Yurio's practice bag and his skates?" he smirked, "You two aren't going to the rink for a little extra practice?"

"I'll bring him back in an hour," I took Yurio's hand, "Bye, Chris. Love you."

"Bye, Violet," Chris waved us off, "Love you, too. Bring Yurio back in one piece."

"I will."

"Gene!" Yurio squeaked as soon as we were in the hall. He wrapped himself around my bodyguard's leg.

"Hey, Yurio," Gene smiled, "You ready to go skate?"

"Oh yeah," he had a fire in his eyes. There's no doubt in my mind. That's my dovahkiin.

And so, the three of us headed off to the Coney Island rink. Yurio wanted to get his quads together. I hope he's read to be worked to the bone. Especially since I'm in such a bright and energetic mood. I could probably skate circles around the best of them today. Yurio got his skates on while I got on the sound board to get some jams going in here. That's the best part about being at the rink so early. This place is almost always empty this time of day. And that's why it's our auxiliary rink.

"Mama," Yurio wondered, "What are you teaching me today?"

"We're warming up first," I decided, "Show me a double. Anything you want."

"Ok," he skated out to the middle of the rink and got his speed up, landing a perfect double toe loop. A little cheeky, but I'll take it.

"Very good," I praised, "Now, do that again. Only this time, I want you to do another one right after the first one."

That's the thing about Yurio. He didn't always take instruction from his coach well. He's like Victor in that respect. But he'd always take to it like a duck to water when it came from me. I watched at his back to back double toe loop went off without a hitch. Why Celestino doesn't have him practicing quads will forever baffle me. I'm sure it's not exactly good on his little, still forming joints, but he can handle it. I know he can.

"How was that?" Yurio caught his breath.

"Perfect," I applauded, "Now, once you're good enough to go again, I want you to try for a quad, ok? Just do what you did for the back to back doubles, only without stopping in the middle."

"Why can't you be my coach anymore, Mama?" he whined, "This is so much better than practice with Celestino."

"Hey," I hushed him, "Celestino's a hell of a coach. He's gotten me to Grand Prix Finals more often than not. And he'll do the same for you."

"But he holds me back," Yurio went on, "He won't let me do quads. Something about him being scared that I'll hurt myself in the preseason so bad that I'll be out for the rest of the season. I'll be fine."

"I know, baby," I settled him, "Trust me. If anyone in this room knows that, it's me. But that's just Celestino. If he's worried about you, that means he cares for your physical well-being. You can't fault him for that. It's not him holding you back. It's him keeping you from doing anything stupid."

"But Mama..."

"Yuri," I scolded, "You're practicing them here and now, aren't you? You can't be complaining. And I'm still your coach. I'm coaching you right now. Now, go make me proud and hit a quad. If you get a clean landing, I'll get you a latte after practice."

"Ok!" I knew that'd get him to shut up. It'll suck that I can't have one, but that's what that disgusting decaf word is for, right? Maybe I can finally get caffeine back! There's hope. For the rest of our practice session, I had Yurio doing flips, spins, loops, splits, and everything in between. He's come such a long way in such a short time. I couldn't be prouder. As his Mama and his coach. There was just one piece of unfinished business to take care of.

"Yuri, bring it in," I ushered him over to the partition, "I need to talk to you for a sec."

"What is it?" Yurio worried, "You're not quitting already, are you?"

"Are you kidding?" I scoffed, "No. I've put way too much work into my routine already. I'm not quitting. What song do you want to do for our special program?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I haven't given it much thought."

"In that case," I smiled, "How about we close out today's practice with an oldie, but a goodie?"

"Primadonna?" Yurio beamed.

"Primadonna."

"Or," Yurio suggested, "We could do Primadonna for our special program. It fits my theme."

"But not mine," I thought, "You also don't need to be doing anything from my theme. That'd be gross."

"Why?"

"Because you're still practically a baby, Yuri," I pointed out, "You don't need to be doing routines seeded in lust. That is disgusting."

"Fine," Yurio looked like he was about to collapse, "But instead of us skating Primadonna right now, can we do that next practice instead? I just want to watch you skate."

"Alright." It wasn't exactly what I had in mind, but I had a Marina for all occasions. And sometimes, every girl wants to feel like a bubblegum bitch. It's a high energy routine and God knows I had that shit in spades right now.

I let the steady bass and synth line take over and had a flashback to an old article I read about myself shortly after the incident in Tokyo that damn near had me out for the rest of the season. My body wasn't exactly where they wanted it to be and I starved myself for their affections. Little did I know, they were just going to turn on me and call me a bitch for taking Victor away. He went of his own volition, yet I'm the bitch. Well, if I'm going to be the bitch, you might as well hate me for my skill and not the external politics.

Because from the ashes of what I once was will rise exactly what they wanted to see. Welcome to the life of Electra Heart, bitches. After I did a few spins and what I liked to call a record scratch with my foot, I was completely, wholeheartedly out of breath. And I'm ready to collapse and call it a day. There's a bright, white light and I can hear Grandma calling me.

"Mama!" Yurio yelled from the partition, "That was awesome!"

Sorry, Grandma. Not today. I got up from the ice and skated back to my baby, "Thanks, Yuri. Can we be done for the day now? Will it be the end of the world if I throw in the towel for today?"

"We can be done," he agreed, his little cheeks a bright shade of red. This kid kicked ass today and I couldn't be prouder, "Do I still get my latte?"

"Like I'd deny you of that," I assured, "Yes, dovahkiin. You get your latte."

"Yay!" Yurio grabbed his bag and kicked his skates off, putting regular shoes on again.

"Hey, Gene," I struggled to catch my breath, "Do you think you could do a girl a solid?"

"I got your bag, sweetheart," Gene gave me my water bottle, "Go on."

"Yuri," I finished a good, heavy drink, "Tell me you don't need me to carry you."

"No," Yurio shook his head, "I'm good."

"Awesome." Because my legs felt like wet noodles and they could hardly support me, let alone another person.

The two of us started heading out to our usual cafe and I'm so glad there was a ferry ride between Coney Island and the mainland. The cool breeze coming off the water was greatly welcomed. Once we got off the boat, we jumped in a cab and Yurio nearly clocked out on my hip. I guess I worked him a little harder than I previously expected to. Poor baby. I'm sorry.

Regardless, he was getting his latte, so he wasn't complaining. I'd stab a man for a flat white right now, but I didn't want the locker room situation again. All that mattered was Yurio getting his latte and the smile on his face. Hell, I even grabbed him a muffin, because why not? He's worked hard today. He earned his muffin. Although, I could stand another bagel.

When we got back to our building, my phone started ringing. Yurio knew where he was going and our building was pretty safe. I sent him back home while I answered my call, "Hey, Victor. We're downstairs. No need to worry."

"I'm never worried when you have Yurio." Ok. Sounds fake, but ok. It wouldn't surprise me if Victor had Celestino watching me while he and Chris were in Malta, "But hi, Violet. It's nice to hear from you, too. I'm not even upstairs, so it's perfectly fine."

"Where are you?" I wondered. Last I knew, Victor was still asleep.

"I'm sitting in our usual cafe with a friend of mine," Victor told me, "The one I wanted you to meet. Are you busy?"

Beep.

"Hold on," I cut him off, "I got another call coming in."

"Ok."

I clicked over to the other line, "Hello?"

"Hi, Violet," Mike's voice purred on the other end, "You busy today?"

"I just finished practice for the day," I reported, "But..."

"No," he answered for me, "You're not busy today. Your boys are back home, aren't they?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Alright then," Mike ordered, "I'm going to send a car for you. I miss you and I want you to come over. Do you have your phone's GPS on?"

"Yeah, but..."

"Wonderful!" he chimed, "It's on its way."

Hard to say no to that, "Ok..."

"That's my girl," he awed, "I'll see you soon."

Click.

Beep.

"Victor?" I checked to see if he hung up on me or not.

"Still here!" Victor chimed, "So, are you busy? I really want you to meet her. She's so sweet and so wonderful."

"Stop..." a woman's voice giggled in the background.

"I'm sorry," I bit my lip, "I got other shit to do today and if I don't do it today, I'm boned."

"Alright," Victor sounded a little disappointed, but he'll get over it quickly. He always does, "What about later?"

"I don't know," I thought it over. Something tells me Master isn't going to let me go for a while, "We'll see."

"Please?" he begged.

"I have to go, sweetheart," I watched an all too familiar town car pull up in front of my building, "I'll call you later."

"Ok," Victor let me go, "Love you."

"Love you, too," I hung my phone up and threw it in my bag. It would've been nice if Mike would've given me a minute to maybe shower and get myself a little more presentable, but he knows I'm just coming off practice. Hopefully, he understands that I'm all gross and sweaty. I waved goodbye to Gene and got in.

The drive to Mike's both excited me and terrified me at the same time. I haven't seen him in a while outside of a phone screen. There's no doubt he'd hide in the rafters while I was at practice this past week any time he had the chance. But now, we'd actually have some time together. God only knows what kind of plans he's been cooking up in the back of his mind when he had a minute. When I got to his building, my nerves went into overdrive and I thought I was going to throw up. Kind of like the first time I got on the ice professionally.

"Hi, princess," Mike greeted me at the lobby and pulled me into his arms, "Oh, Violet, Violet, Violet...I missed you so much."

"I missed you, too," I laid my head in his chest. I could joke all I wanted about how miserable our experience in the locker room, but I missed laying with Mike once in a while. When I still had the boys, I thought about calling him after they went to sleep and inviting him over. But Yuri and Yurio didn't need to know why a strange man was leaving Mama's condo the next morning. Yurio's a little hazy in his first waking moments and wouldn't hesitate to beat the shit out of him with a bat. Yuri would start hyperventilating and bringing him down from something like that is not easy and it is not fun.

"Come on," he scooped me up in his arms, getting me off my feet. If I wasn't so tired, I'd take him right then and there, "Let's get you upstairs and cleaned up, ok?"

"Ok," I started nodding off, "If I fall asleep on you, I'm sorry in advance."

"I understand," Mike let it slide, carrying me into the elevator, "You just came back from practice. I thought you only did that during the week, though."

"I'm coaching on Sundays for a while," I told him, "One of my boys wants to learn more quads and our usual coach isn't letting him."

"So, you're teaching him," he filled in the blanks, "And are those practices closed, too?"

"No," I shook my head, "But they're also with one of my babies. He doesn't like practicing in front of people."

"He'll be performing anyway," Mike pointed out, "What's the difference?"

"Yurio's weird like that," I assumed, "It's just his thing. I had the same problem when I first started skating."

"Well," the elevator doors opened into Mike's penthouse, "What if I wanted to come watch?"

"No." There weren't many things I was firm about, but when it came to my babies, I had my priorities in order. And every time I said no, it always caught Mike off guard.

"If you say so," he allowed, putting me down on his couch, "I'm going to go run you some bathwater, ok? Stay right here."

"Yes, sir," I curled up on the couch, shutting my eyes for a few minutes.

Sure, when I started this whole adventure with Mike, there were a few things I had to get used to that I thought were hella weird. Wearing a collar when we were together, my choker when we're apart. The occasional leashing (never in public, though. Unless we were in Cosmos). But when he decided to give me a bath. That, I liked. It invoked a sense of nostalgia. And it's not like it's the first time that a man I had feelings for gave me a bath. I had Victor doing that a few weeks ago. Granted, I was super hungover, but still. Not my first trip to the fair.

Although, I have a feeling that if I told Mike that, he'd kill me. He has been a few firsts for me, but he doesn't know what Victor and I did behind closed doors. The only difference is that they both enjoyed it for totally different reason. One was a little more innocent than the other, but either way, I managed to benefit. Mike learned quickly, though, to be more delicate with me. Especially if I'm just coming off a practice. My legs were throbbing and I think I had a newly forming bruise on my thigh.

But when he started kneading his fingers in my muscles, I thought I was going to go through the ceiling. I loved Sasha to death, but he may have some competition on this side of the world. Mike pulled me out of the water and into a towel, cradling me in his arms and bringing back to the bedroom. If I wasn't ready for a nap before, I'm definitely there now.

"If I fall asleep on you," I rubbed my eyes, "I'm sorry in advance."

"It's alright, sweetheart," Mike held me tight against his chest, "You know, Violet, I really did miss having you like this. I hated you being away from me for so long."

"I know," I reveled in his embrace, "I'm sorry, but my kids come first."

"And that's ok," he allowed, "It only makes moments like this all the more wonderful."

"If you think this is great," I babbled deliriously, not thinking straight, "Imagine what it's going to be like when competition time comes around."

"What do you mean?" Mike gave me a look. Oh, shit...Idiot Violet strikes again.

"Well," I tried sitting up, but Master wouldn't let that happen, "I travel all over the world for competition. I thought you knew about that."

"How long would you be gone?" he asked flatly. Oh, shit. Master's pissed.

"Mike..."

"Violet," he raised his voice, "How. Long?"

I bit down on my tongue, bracing myself for what was going to come after, "A few months..."

"A few months?!" Master screeched, "Are you shitting me? You're going to be spending a few months around the world in God only knows what country next without me?"

"We'll be fine," I assured, trying to get the vein to go back into his forehead.

"And let me guess," he snarled, "Victor's going to be there, too."

"Well, yeah," I just didn't know when to keep my mouth shut, "He's Yuri's coach."

"He's also your ex-husband, Violet!" Master glared down at me, "Both hands. Headboard. Now."

"Why?" Violet, I love you, but goddamn, girlfriend...Read the room.

"You are not in the position to be asking questions," he demanded, "Headboard. Now!"

"Yes, sir," I didn't hesitate. Master's about to beat my ass black and blue, isn't he? And I still had yet to put clothes on after my bath. I'm in my collar and a not so smile. Happy place, Violet.

I caught a glimpse of a riding crop out of the corner of my eye. That'll sting on bare skin. But the tingling sensation afterward was nice. Master twiddled the handle between his fingers, "Count for me, Violet."

Snap!

"ONE!" That first one caught me by surprise. I wasn't expecting it so...

Snap!

"TWO!" I squeaked out. He's not even giving me any recovery time.

"Keep it down," Master ordered, "I don't need the neighbors below me to hear you."

Snap!

"Three!" I winced, breathing the pain out. I can handle this.

"Last one."

Snap!

"Four..." I dug my nails into the headboard and fell limply to the bed.

"Very good," Master ran the cool leather down my spine, "Now, I want you to get some sleep. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," I nodded, forcing back the tears burning in my eyes. Although, I'm not quite sure how I'm going to sleep after that. The throbbing on my ass wasn't helping matters, but I wasn't going to fight him. If my light sobbing wasn't going to take me under, the physical exhaustion would. Hopefully, my nap time will give Master some time to cool off. I shut my eyes, tears dripping to the pillowcase, and fell asleep with Master wrapped around me. I could feel his heart racing against my back. I'm sorry for having a life before you, Master. Please forgive me.

When I woke up, Mike was gently brushing my hair out of my face, a little less angry than when I fell asleep. Good. He's had time to think. He wasn't the type to hold a grudge...right? At least I hope not. No. My gut was telling me that everything wasn't a hundred percent ok, but it's getting there. I don't think I'm getting paddled again for a while. A soft, gentle kiss was planted on my forehead.

"Good morning, princess," Mike spoke softly. I couldn't gauge his mood from that. He's calling me princess, so I'm guessing that's a good sign, "Did you sleep ok?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded, ready to go back to sleep.

"You need to get dressed now, Violet," he helped me up, "We're going out tonight."

"Ok," I stumbled over to my closet that Master had set up so nicely for me (and where a lot of his toys were kept) and started thumbing through my dresses. Because heaven forbid I had a pair of jeans in here. Not that I'm really complaining. No pants are always the best pants.

"Hold on," Master stopped me, "There's one in particular I want you to wear. We're going to Cosmos tonight and I want you in white."

Yeah. He's still pissed.

But I didn't need him to fall further down that rabbit hole, so I might as well. God only knows what's going to happen once we get to Cosmos. It'll be fine. I'm sure of it. Almost…Maybe…We'll be fine. We're fine. Or I'm just praying for the best of a bad situation. You can say no, Violet. No means no. That's the guiding principle. The safe word is malyshka.

 **A/N: Hi, friends. This is your friendly neighborhood reminder that things are going to get a little spicy. Not full on explicit, but a little naughty. I'd say PG-13. If that's not your cup of tea, then please move on to the next bolded section. I understand. Thank you and have a pleasant day. I hope you're proud of me, Mom.**

When we got to Cosmos, Master instantly put me on a leash. Willam waved to me, hoping I could come over for a word or two. Unfortunately, I didn't get that lucky. Master led me up the stairs to the voyeur rooms. I should've known. The inside was well-lit and the windows look like they were just cleaned, so everything was crystal clear and in high-definition. Awesome.

"On the bed, Violet," Master unhooked the leash.

"Yes, Master," I climbed onto the bed and instinctively grabbed the headboard, watching a few people go by the window. This is going to be a fun night. I'm totally not uncomfortable.

"Do you understand why I'm doing this?" he started setting things up.

"Yes, sir."

"Why?"

"Because," I bit my lip, "I've been disobeying your orders. And I've been a bad pet."

"That's right," he confirmed, "Are you ready for what's about to happen?"

"Yes," I quivered a bit.

"Are you deserving of punishment?"

"Yes, sir."

And punish, he did. Not only was I getting a riding crop, but bringing me to the edge only to pull me back wasn't exactly nice either. Doing it over and over and over again while total strangers were watching it all unfold? That bath was completely burned out of my brain and a shower would most definitely be needed.

 **A/N: Alright, kids. You can uncover your eyes now.**

"See?" Master praised, kissing up my spine, making sure to give the people watching a good show at my expense, "I knew you could handle this. I'm so proud of you, sweetheart. Now, I'm sure you'll behave for me, won't you? Are you going to be my good girl now?"

"Yes, Master." That just kicked my ass. I hope to hell he's not thinking about another round. Because I don't think I could do that anymore in half an hour.

"Why don't you go get a drink?" he allowed, "I'm sure you're thirsty. Then, we can do this all again."

"But…"

"Then," Master turned dark, "We really can start to punish you."

I hurried up and got dressed. Just enough to go downstairs. No. I didn't like this. There's no way I could handle that anymore. It's not like I could flat out break up with him. I don't even know if we're actually a couple. When we had sex, was there even any love there? Or was it just a mutual satisfaction? I mean, I know I'm no stranger to a casual thing, but there's a difference between us using each other for sex and whatever the hell this has mutated into. Mike knows damn well how I felt about the window. I didn't like this at all. I went down to the bar, upset and uncomfortable and tired.

"Hey," Willam greeted me, "I tried flagging you down, Violet. Where were you?"

"Mike and I got a room," I spoke softly, my voice breaking.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he lifted my chin, "Violet…? Are you ok?"

"Can we talk?" I asked.

"Absolutely," Willam ordered a drink for me, "What's going on?"

"Mike's lost it," I cringed, downing my drink in one go, "He and I used to work so well together, but the littlest bit of time apart and he's become kind of an asshole. I get the whole punishment thing. Pain is pleasure. I'm not denying that. But when it's in private. When he's demanding we get a room with a big, open window for all to see, that's when I don't want to play anymore."

"Oh, sweetie," he empathized, "Come here. I need to hug you."

"Thanks, Willam," I laid my head on his shoulder, gladly accepting his hug. Fingers crossed that Mike didn't see this. God knows it'd set his ass off like fireworks.

"Are you looking for an out?" Willam suggested.

"Could you get me one?"

"I can make a call," he assured, "If you can hang tight for a little while longer."

"I can try," I hugged him a little tighter.

"Go on," Willam sent me off, "I hate doing this to you, Vi, but go upstairs. Hang in there. I'll take care of the rest."

Begrudgingly, I got up from my barstool and limped up the stairs. Mike was still laying on our bed when I got back. By the looks of things, he was ready for another round. But I couldn't help but wonder…What the hell did Willam have up his sleeve? He seemed so sure that he'd be able to help me, but at what cost?

"Hi there," Mike grinned darkly from the bed, "That was awfully quick. Just the one drink?"

"Yeah," I nodded, wobbling back to the bed.

"Come here, sweetheart," he insisted, "Come lay with me for a minute or two. Just long enough to get the rest we need before round two."

"Ok," I moved in closer, "But could we put this on hold? I'm tired and some of my old skating injuries are coming back to haunt me."

"Which ones?"

"A hip dislocation," I explained, buying as much time as I could, "A torn ligament in my knee. A shoulder dislocation. A broken tailbone a couple times."

"My poor baby," Mike cradled me, "Why would you get into such a line of work with so many hazards? And to put your children through something like that while they're still growing…I can't help but question your thinking."

Alright. This guy was looking to get his ass kicked. I don't know who you called, Willam, but I hope they take this dick into the alley. It hurt to say shit like that about him, but now, Mike was just some guy I slept with when I was wasted one night, "I got into it because it got me out of where I was. And I couldn't be more grateful for it."

Knock, knock.

"Yeah?" Mike yelled at the door, "It's unlocked."

On the other side was a beautiful, tall, leggy Swiss man that I knew and loved. Willam picked one hell of a white knight for me, "Bonsoir, mon ami. Vous ai-je manqué?"

"Christophe," he turned pale, "What are you doing here?"

"Willam called me and said you were here," Chris smirked, "Who's this?"

"She's no one," Mike brushed me off, "Just some random bar skank."

Ouch. Hurtful. He claimed me. He collared me. He'd get pissed if a man came within a ten-foot radius. Yet, all of a sudden, Chris comes in and I'm some random bar skank? I could see Chris ball his fist up out of reflex. Then again, he's also pretending like he doesn't know me. Not quite sure why, but hey. I'm rolling with anything at this point that doesn't involve more punishment.

"Is she?" Chris looked me over, shooting me a little wink, "She's cute for random bar trash. Not my type, though. So, are we doing this or what?"

"Violet," Mike demanded, "Get out."

He didn't have to tell me twice. I gathered the rest of my stuff and made a beeline for the door while he went into the bathroom. But before I made my escape, Chris grabbed my arm, whispering to me, "Go to the bar. Willam wants to make sure you're ok before you go."

"Thank you, Chris," I wrapped my arms around his waist.

"Go," Chris kissed the top of my head, "I'll see you back home."

"Ok," I left Chris to take one for the team and headed straight for the bar. Besides, after that, I could stand another drink.

"There you are, Violet," Willam hugged me again, "Are you alright?"

"You couldn't have called anyone better," I approved, "I'll be ok."

"Good," he let out a heavy sigh, "Look, there's a shit ton of reporters out front. Someone tipped them off you were here. It's a shitstorm. Go out the back door. Someone'll meet you there."

"Ok," I kissed his cheek, "Thank you, Willam. As much fun as it's been, I think this might be the last time I'll step foot in here."

"I understand," Willam smiled, "Go."

I pushed my way through the sea of people, looking for the back door. Because I haven't been through enough tonight, let's throw press on top of it. Sure! What other ways can we screw Violet over tonight? Am I going to go out into the alley and get hit by a motorcycle? Or am I going to get jumped? Are the press going to find me back here? Will I step on a dirty needle and contract some sort of deadly disease?

"Hi…" None of those. Instead, I had the one person I knew would always be there for me. No matter what kind of bullshit is going on between us, he and I were an unconditional thing. Always. And in that moment, I fell into his arms and bawled my eyes out. I've been such a bitch since Mike entered my life. I've been a walking train wreck that everyone had their eyes on. I've done nothing but blow him off for the past two months, yet he still comes through for me…Why the hell did I ever let him go? Yet another idiot mistake, "It's alright, Violet. It's going to be ok."

All of Victor's reassurance only made the tears come faster and harder. Once I regained the ability to talk, it still came out so broken, but I could do it, dammit. Mike may have taken a lot from me, but he will not take my voice, "You didn't have to do this."

"That's the thing about us," Victor sat me down on the back steps of an Italian restaurant a block over, "I don't have to do anything for you, yet you say I've done so much for you. You don't have to do a thing for me, yet you've given me the world without expecting anything in return. It doesn't matter, Violet. I'm not here because I have to be. There's no obligation here. I'm here because my best friend is in emotional ruin and she needs me."

"Thank you," I shook in his arms, "Are we waiting for Chris?"

"Yeah," he nodded, running his hand up and down my back, "He shouldn't be much longer."

"He's definitely taking one for the team," I rested my head on Victor's shoulder.

"That's for sure," Victor chuckled under his breath as the door creaked open, "Speak of the devil."

"It's been a while since I rode that roller coaster," Chris walked out, entirely out of breath, "Violet, are you ok?"

"Hell no," I answered honestly, "But I'll get there, I'm sure."

"I know something that'll make you feel better," Victor suggested, helping me up from the stairs, "Are you thinking what I'm thinking?"

"I think so," I had no idea what Victor was thinking.

Victor took my hand, doing his best to shield me from any wandering eyes, "Let's go get pancakes."

 **A/N: Holy hell, this chapter's long. It wasn't supposed to be, but it was also supposed to be out earlier than this. But I had a baby on my arm for a while. He's four months old and falls asleep to the Cowboy Bebop theme. On a positive note, though, Violet's getting away from Mike. I know we've had some mixed feelings about Mike. But now, Chris took one for the team, God bless him, and Violet's getting away from him. Even better, there's going to be pancakes involved! Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. Good night and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	26. Pancakes Fix Everything

If the lump in my throat wasn't making it difficult to talk, the constant shoveling of pancakes in my mouth was. After living in Russia for so long, a girl starts to miss the little things from her own country. Like twenty-four hour diners with bottomless stacks of pancakes. Perfect for when she already hates herself and needs to fill the empty hole in her heart with obscene quantities of food. Besides, it'd be a great idea to soak up the booze in my stomach.

I didn't want to talk, though. I just wanted to stuff my face until I couldn't move. Stupid Violet strikes again. I could've let a drunk text be a drunk text and a one night stand be a one night stand. Now, I won't be able to listen to Africa without thinking about my ass getting beaten on like a bongo drum. Dammit...I liked that song, too. What I don't like is the overwhelming amount of pity in Dad and Dad's eyes staring me down like that while I practically chugged gallons of blackberry syrup. It was almost getting to be too much.

"What?" I snapped. Anything to break the silence.

"Nothing," Victor lied through his teeth.

"Nothing," Chris did his best to avoid my sharp eye contact.

"Bullshit," I grumbled, swallowing the bite I had in my mouth, "Go ahead. Ask me about the elephant in the room."

"Why didn't you say he was getting so bad, Violet?" Chris worried, "You could've told at least me that he was getting out of hand."

"That was one of those things that's between us," I let out a heavy sigh, "I mean, we'd play rough. Sometimes, it'd feel like full on hate sex. It was angry and rough and downright animalistic and that's just the way things were. I'd egg him on without even realizing it sometimes. But when all was said and done, it put me in such a good place. Physically, mentally...I'd feel so drained, but so satisfied. I guess I just kind of got hooked on that feeling. It wasn't even about the sex."

"Yeah," Chris agreed, "I only had a one night stand with him."

"Just now," Victor gave him a look, "Right?"

"Long time ago," Chris assured, "Before we were even a thing. It was once. I was young and stupid. But I never knew what it was like to be kept by him."

"Kept?"

"Oh, Vitya..." Chris awed, "I forget how naive and vanilla you can be."

"I'm lost," Victor had such a blank stare going on. It actually got a cheap laugh out of me, "The most out of the box thing I've ever done was over ten years ago and that was the night we met Violet."

"To put it in simpler terms," Chris explained, "Have you noticed anything different about Violet lately? How she's become a little more responsive to commands? How she usually answers with yes, sir?"

"Yeah."

"And Violet, tilt your head up for me please." I did as he asked, "Notice how she's taken to wearing chokers a lot lately? Especially one in particular?"

"Yeah."

"That's not a choker, dear," Chris pointed out, "That's more or less a collar. Violet, what did you call Mike on a regular basis? Because I know damn well it wasn't Mike."

I felt my face catching on fire, "Master."

"When we say Violet was kept," he went on, "Violet was kept as Master's pet. A special pet that he could call upon any time of the day for whatever he had intended for her. Mostly, it's sex."

"Sometimes, it'd be to actually take care of me," I stepped in, "Those parts were nice."

"That's a thing?" Victor wondered, "I thought that was just a booty call."

"That's the thing about a master, though," Chris continued, "Some will keep a few pets. Some will only keep one."

"And Mike could get super jealous," I shivered, going back to my pancakes.

"Oh, hell yeah," Chris agreed, "That's definitely true. Speaking of, what sparked him to get so angry with you, Violet? He should know better than to take you to Cosmos in white. Especially if he's so territorial."

"Why?" Victor's innocence showed itself once again.

"Because it might as well be painting a target on my back," I filled him in, "And I think it's because his jealousy's been piling up lately. I see that now in hindsight."

"What would he be jealous of?" Chris scoffed, "You were pretty exclusive to him, weren't you? Unless Master's pet was sleeping around."

"No," I shook my head, "I'd like to avoid that kind of migraine. How other people do that is beyond me. But who he wouldn't be jealous of would be a shorter list."

"Really?" Victor was starting to understand things a little better.

"Yeah," I took a long drink from my sweet tea, "He'd be jealous of Yuri and Yurio because they'd have me all to themselves for the week and he'd be lucky to get a phone call. He'd be jealous of Gene because Gene knew where I lived and got to spend the whole day watching my back. He'd be jealous of Celestino because he'd get to watch me skate every day and help me get better. He'd be jealous of you..."

"Me?" Victor squeaked, "Why would Mike have been jealous of me? I'm married."

"You're my best friend, Victor," I pointed out, "It didn't matter if you were married or not. I'm pretty sure he didn't like that I was still so close with my ex-husband. Heaven forbid we have a healthy relationship after our divorce. When he saw us together, I had plans with him later that night and oh, did we have a night...I think I stayed with him that night, too. Just to make up for whatever the hell I did to piss him off so bad."

"That's sounding a little less territorial," Victor thought, "And a little more abusive. His jealousy is not your problem, Violet. That's something he needs to work through, not take out on you through rough, wicked sex."

Dammit, Victor. Why couldn't you have punched me right square in the jaw? Why couldn't you take me into the alley and beat the absolute shit out of me? Why couldn't you push me in front of rush hour traffic? All of that would've hurt so much less. A part of me was ready to totally break down again. But the other part of me was screaming, 'don't you dare, bitch'. I liked that part.

"So, Violet," Chris changed the subject, catching on to my current internal struggle, "This may be a stupid question to ask, but I just need my suspicions confirmed. Are you going to see Mike again?"

"No!" Victor answered for me, "Not happening!"

"Well…" I thought it over, "Maybe just to talk."

"Violet, no," he put his foot down.

"It wouldn't be as pet and master," I promised, "We'd just be two people having a conversation."

"Do you really think that'd be the case, Violet?" If anyone at this sticky, plate filled table would understand any of this, it's definitely Chris. He knew Mike and what he was like. Of course I knew it wouldn't go that well. Master wouldn't allow that. If Mike and I were to get together in the same room again, I have no doubt that I'd be on my knees with a collar on my neck. My ass did not need another paddling.

"No…" I spoke meekly.

"Violet," Victor took my hand, "I love you. Believe me when I say this. You're an incredible woman and you don't deserve that kind of negativity in your life."

"Thanks, Victor," I laid my head on the wall, ready for this nightmare to be over.

"I'm just glad you kept him away from the boys," he applauded, "I don't even want to think what things would be like if Yuri and Yurio were exposed to that."

"Yurio kind of met him once," I admitted, "He followed me to the Red Room when Yurio had a dance lesson. They didn't have much for contact."

"Good," Victor cringed, "It's hard to believe that's the same guy I met the other day."

"Can we stop talking about him, please?" I begged, shoveling another mouthful of pancake down my throat. Chances are, it'll end up all over the floor later anyway.

"Alright," he rolled my fingers between his own, "Tomorrow. You're meeting my friend tomorrow. Is that alright?"

"Sure," I sighed out, "What the hell? Why not? Wait, Victor, why do you want me to meet her so bad?"

"Are you talking about Morgan?" Chris awed, "She's such a sweetheart."

"Yeah," Victor smiled, "She is. I don't know what I would've done without her."

"By the sounds of it," I joked darkly, "She's my replacement."

"Violet," Victor wrapped his arms around me, "No one's replacing you. No one could. Besides, Yuri and Yurio would never forgive me if I replaced you."

"And you never answered my question," I brought it back, "Why do you want me to meet this chick so bad?"

"Because I know you two will get along," he assured, "But you'll see. Tomorrow. You'll see."

"Tomorrow or technically today?" I wondered.

"No one likes a smartass, Violet."

"Why don't you stay with us tonight?" Chris offered, "Given what you just went through, you shouldn't be by yourself tonight."

"Thanks, Chris," I smiled a bit, "But I think I'll just go home."

"Come on, Violet," he begged, "Please? Imagine how happy the boys are going to be when they wake up and they find Mama under the same roof."

"Mama's always under the same roof," I pointed out, "I live in the same building. Hell, I'm exactly one floor above you. You could hit your ceiling with a broom and I'd feel it under my feet. We are under the exact same roof."

Also, that was dirty as hell, and Chris knew it.

"You get what I mean," Chris brushed me off, "How long has it been since the boys have woken up with all of us were in the same house?"

"A while," my chest ached. Even though I was still reeling from Mike's snap, I could be strong for my boys. I was going to be hanging around Victor tomorrow anyway, "Alright. You've twisted my arm. Let's go home."

Victor paid our tab and the three of us headed home. It wouldn't surprise me if we end up being met by press, but I had a feeling that if one of them looked at me cross-eyed, they'd be getting punched. And heaven forbid if one of them is Doyle Wallace from Skate Weekly Magazine. Because I'd probably kill him with my bare hands. No exaggeration.

Instead of premeditated murder, we took the elevator up to Chris and Victor's condo. And it just now dawns on me that it's three in the morning and Chris and Victor aren't home. Where the hell were my boys? They didn't do something stupid like leave them by themselves, did they? I know our building's safe and I know I've left them by themselves before, too, but that was for maybe twenty minutes. Not two hours!

Once I walked inside, though, my mind was set at ease when I found Celestino passed out in the chair. Of course they'd call Celestino. Who else would they call? Alright. Good. I could sleep a little easier tonight. I peeked into Yuri's room first. Sound asleep. He didn't need to know that Mama was out in a club tonight and that Daddy and Uncle Chris had to come bail her out. Then, I looked across the hall. To no surprise, Yurio had kicked his blanket off and had one leg hanging off the side of the bed. Bless this boy. I covered him back up and kissed his forehead. Yurio's nose scrunched up a little, melting me inside. I loved this boy. Good night, sweetheart. Mama loves you. Both of you.

Now that I knew everything was good, I could go to bed. I went down to Chris and Victor's side of the condo and into the guest room. After everything, I just wanted to go to sleep. Although, when I crawled into bed, there was already a warm body in here. This was weird.

"Wrong bed, Violet," Chris shot me down, "Don't get me wrong. I'm flattered. But we know where you really want to be."

I nuzzled my face in his shoulder blades, hugging him tight, "Thank you, Chris."

"You're welcome."

I knew it. Chris knew it. The best emotional support I've ever had in my life. No matter what, he was always the one. I got out of the guest bedroom and went into the master bedroom. Goddamn, that bed was comfortable. I didn't even think twice. I fell onto the bed and damn near clocked out right then and there. Just as I was about to slip into that sweet state of unconsciousness, I felt a blanket being pulled over me and a pair of arms wrapping around me.

"Good night, Violet," Victor gave me a soft, gentle kiss on my forehead, "I love you."

"I love you, too."

 **A/N: Pancakes really do make everything better. I like pancakes. I want some pancakes now. I have a lot of other work to get done. In short, Chris and Victor are the best makeshift parents, Celestino is the best makeshift uncle, and Mike needs to get punched in the dick. See you next chapter! xx**


	27. Stronger

**A/N: If you're reading this, I'm curled up in a nook cut out of the tallest oak tree. My leaf blanket over me, my steaming cup of tea, and my thick book in my lap, perfectly content with the world like the little creature of the forest that I am. Ironic, isn't it? The paper from my book, the leaves in my teabag, my cozy little house. And it all came from this big, beautiful tree. It's a strange circle of life, isn't it?**

 **Let's try this again, shall we? If you're reading this, I'm currently in Michigan until this coming Sunday (I think? Don't quote me.). Again, if you see me out in the wild, you are MORE THAN WELCOME to come see me. Don't be shy. If my phone is up and running by now, keep an eye on the Instagram and the Twitter. I'll keep you updated as much as I possibly can. Now, I'll let you read, ok?**

Oh, I felt icky. I mean, I woke up in Victor's bed for the first time in months, so I couldn't complain there, but I felt like absolute shit. It wasn't quite a hangover. It wasn't quite exhaustion. Oh, shit. I'm not getting sick. Love of God, don't tell me I'm getting sick. Maybe it'll pass after I get food in my stomach and have a shower that's too hot for the average human being. God, I hope so. I knew I had practice this morning, but every fiber of my being was telling me to blow it off. If I did that, though, Celestino would get pissed at me and I'm in no mood to deal with anyone's bitchy attitude today.

"She's what?!" Yurio screeched from the kitchen. The sound of his feet slapping against the hardwood at the speed of light echoed through the hall. And before I could even process it, he jumped into the bed with me, "Mama!"

"Hi, baby," I wrapped my arms around him, "Easy, Yuri. I'm just waking up."

"Sorry," he nuzzled his head in ribs, "What are you doing here?"

"I had a long night last night," I kept things cryptic, but I didn't want to flat out lie to him, "So Victor and Uncle Chris let me crash here last night."

"Are you ok?" Yurio worried, always the perceptive one, "You're not sick or anything, are you?"

"I'm fine," I promised, hugging my baby tight, "Go get ready for practice, ok?"

"Ok," he wasn't moving. I don't think he wanted to. And honestly, I couldn't blame him. I didn't want to get up either. But if I skipped practice, Madame would have my ass. Celestino would have no room to speak. He knows what's going on. Madame on the other hand? She'd end me.

"Hey, Yuri," I wondered, "Is Celestino still here?"

"What do you mean, still?" Good. The boys had no clue about what was going on. Good to know.

"Is Celestino here?" I rephrased my question.

"Yeah," Yurio nodded, "He was when I woke up."

Great. As long as it doesn't turn into another lecture, I'll be thrilled. I don't want to deal with Celestino pissed off. I pulled myself out of Chris and Victor's bed and made my way into the kitchen. My boys were sitting around the kitchen table, right down to my bodyguard. How the hell did Gene know to come here and not my place? Victor. Had to be. Victor and Gene were buddies. Relatively. It was rather endearing.

"Good morning, dorogoy," Victor greeted me, a big ass white cup in his hand. And it's still hot, "This is for you. One flat white, three shots of espresso."

"Victor Nikiforov, I love you," I thanked him, "Were you unwed and we weren't in mixed company, I would take you right here on the kitchen table."

"Where would you go?" Yuri wrapped himself around my waist, "You just got here, Mama. And don't take Daddy away, too."

"Oh, Yuri," I hugged him tight, "Bless you, child."

"Get your own husband," Chris defended, all in good fun, of course.

"I would," I retaliated, "But someone already took mine. And it's so hard to meet good people these days."

"Alright, ladies," Victor broke us up, "Both of you, settle down."

"Victor," I gave him a look, "How many years have we been at this?"

"You make a valid point," he let it go, "Just no battle royale in my kitchen, please."

"We won't," Chris kissed his cheek.

"What time is it?" I wondered, trying to see over on the stove.

"Almost nine o'clock."

"Shit!" I threw my shoes on and my bag over my shoulder, "I have to get to the Red Room."

"Violet," Celestino stepped in, "If you want, you can skip practice for today."

"No can do, Coach," I shot him down. I had no doubt in my mind that Victor and Chris told him about last night. He knew what was going on. And if Celestino was good for one thing in this world, it was taking care of me, "The best thing for me right now is to throw myself into work as hard as I can. It's the best kind of therapy I got."

"Alright," he understood, "Send the Madame my love."

"Will do," I promised, "Gene? You coming?"

"That's what I'm paid for, hon," Gene got up from the table and got the door for me. As we got into the elevator, I completely spaced the fact that I had the sweet, dark nectar of the gods in my hand. Hello, my love. I promise you I will never leave you for another man again. I don't care what kind of hold he has on me. With a content moan, the back of my throat burned. Worth it. And it gave Gene a cheap laugh, "Do you two need a minute, Vi?"

"It's been so long since I've had real coffee," I sighed out, "None of that decaf bullshit Mike forced down my throat."

"Are you going to be ok?" Gene put an arm around me.

"Eventually, yeah," I rubbed my eyes, getting the icky feeling back again. So much for my good feeling coming back. I guess there are some things that even good coffee can't solve. I hated that this had such a grip on me and even more that I couldn't shake it. He was just a drunk text, Violet. A little mistake. I'm sure that enough physical exertion will help clear your head.

When we got to the Red Room, it was business as usual. The tables were moved out of the way. Madame sat at the edge of the stage waiting for me. It's like last night never happened. The only suck part is that it did happen and it's not rolling off me like I hoped it would. I wasn't sure what I needed more; a hug, a drink, or more coffee.

"Good morning, baby," Madame called out, going through her phone.

"Morning, Madame," I dropped my bag on one of the tables, lacking any vigor or enthusiasm in my voice.

"Violet...?" she looked up, "Come here, sweetheart. What's the matter?"

Madame always had a sixth sense when it came to me. There was no hiding anything from her. It's physically impossible. Many have tried. All have failed. Whether it was my emotional state or my hangovers, she could smell trouble from a mile away. I joined her on the stage and laid my head on her shoulder, "I got man troubles. Apparently, I have too many in my life."

"Amen, sister," Madame chuckled under her breath, "It's the guy you brought in here a couple weeks ago, isn't it? The one that put a collar on you."

"I never told you he was Master," I gave her a look, "How did you know?"

"Violet," she said flatly, "Really? You don't think I can't see a master and his pet when it's right in front of me? My only question is why. I mean, don't get me wrong. He was definitely a looker, but why?"

"He was good at what he did," I swooned, "But he found out that I'd be gone for a few months without him. Even worse, that I'd be with Victor a lot."

"Oh, honey," Madame sat me on her lap. I'm not sure why, but I've learned not to question Madame's methods or her wisdom, "His fragility is not your problem. There's no sense in crying over him. If he didn't trust you to be gone with your ex-husband, who is now married to a man..."

"That Master's also had sex with..."

"WHAT?!" she gasped, "You're shitting me..."

"And just last night, too," I confirmed, "But Victor knew about that time. The first time was a surprise and long before they got together, but time number two was to get me out of there, so it was ok."

"Getting back to what I was saying," Madame shook that roller coaster out of her thoughts, "If he can't trust you after you've been nothing but loyal to him, that's something wrong with him, not you. And you don't deserve to carry that kind of burden. That's his problem, sweetheart. Not yours."

"Thanks, Madame." Damn, if she wasn't right. And always able to say what I need to hear.

"My pleasure," she hugged me tight, "Now, how about we work through some of your choreography, ok? How's that?"

"Let's do this!" The coffee's kicking in.

"That's my girl!" Madame praised, "Make me proud!"

And proud, I did. I don't think I've ever gone so hard at a dance practice ever. Even when I still lived in Russia and Natalia was teaching me. Something about Madame's pep talk lit a fire in me that I didn't realize I had anymore and I'm loving it! I was here for this. I felt amazing, I'm jacked on caffeine, and it's almost as if last night never happened! I didn't have to deal with that right now.

Beep!

"Violet," Madame scolded, "What did I say about your phone going off during practice?"

"Sorry, Madame," I dug through my bag for my phone and rolled my eyes as soon as I saw the text.

 _Can we meet?_

 _-M_

"What's that look all about?" she wondered, always up to hear any bit of gossip.

"It's him," I gagged.

 _I'm busy._

 _-VP_

"What's he want?" Madame gave me my water bottle.

"He wants to meet up," I threw my phone down, "I told him I was busy."

Beep!

"Apparently, not busy enough."

 _Please? We need to talk._

 _-M_

"Ugh...!" I growled.

 _I need some time._

 _-VP_

Beep!

"Violet, put it on vibrate," Madame insisted, "You don't need that today."

 _I understand._

 _Please?_

 _-M_

"If you understood," I snapped, "You'd leave me alone!"

"I'm telling you, baby," she demanded, "Vibrate. It'll make life so much easier."

"Should I?" I wondered, "Maybe he really does want to just talk."

"Oh, Violet," Madame awed, "Didn't I teach you better? Make him grovel."

"Fine..."

 _Why should I?_

 _-VP_

And now we wait...

Beep!

"He's a quick one, isn't he?" she teased.

"I kept going back to him, didn't I?" I smirked, catching on to what she was trying to get at.

 _Because I know you._

 _And you're a good person._

 _And I asked nice._

 _-M_

"I don't know about this, Madame..." I thought it over, "What do I do?"

"If you are going to meet him somewhere," Madame suggested, "Do it somewhere public. He seemed like a freak, but he also seemed like he had a little decorum when it came to being a freak. If you're somewhere very public, there's witnesses and he won't try anything."

"Besides," Gene chimed in, "I've got strict orders not to let you out of my sight today, Vi."

"What Celestino doesn't know won't kill him."

"They're not from Celestino..." I should've known. It wouldn't surprise me if Chris and Victor start following me around town, serving as Gene's backup. My two favorite dads strike again. My boys...I love my boys.

 _Central Park in ten?_

 _-VP_

Beep!

"He really doesn't waste any time," Madame jabbed, "What's this one say?"

"Well," I caught her up, "I told him to meet me at Central Park in a few minutes. Plenty of tourists. Big, open space. I can't go wrong, right?"

"Capital idea," she approved, "And? Verdict?"

 _Sure._

 _I'll be by the fountain._

 _-M_

"He's in," I grabbed the rest of my stuff, "Madame, is it ok if I take off a little early?"

"You kicked ass today, sweetheart," Madame hugged me tight, "And I couldn't be prouder. You earned it. Go ahead. Gene, keep an eye on her."

"Yes, ma'am."

The two of us headed out to Central Park. Whether or not this was a good idea had yet to be seen. I'll be fine. If shit goes sideways, I had Gene there. Even though Mike was strong enough to throw me around and pin me down at will, Gene will not hesitate. Alright. Now, if I were a giant dick with a little man complex, where would I be? Mike did say he'd be near a fountain. And I found him. Oh, shit...He brought apology flowers.

"Hi," he greeted me civilly, giving me half a dozen white roses arranged nicely with some grape hyacinth. They're pretty, though.

"Hi," I sat next to him, dodging any other form of affection he tried giving me, "what'd you want?"

"I wanted to apologize for yesterday." I'm so damn shocked, "It's just that...Well, I haven't seen you in so long. I guess I was a bit on edge."

"Mike," I tried my hardest not to rip his throat out, "You knew exactly how I felt about the audience and you did it anyway. And you're wanting me to forgive you and blame it all on your libido? You'll have to do better than that."

"You insolent..." Mike stopped himself. He wanted to call me a bitch. I could see it in his eyes. But he did stop himself, so I had to give him a little credit, "Look, Violet. I have very strong feelings for you. And I don't want anything to come between us. I'm sure you can understand that much, can't you?"

"I understand," I stood my ground, "And when you're done making excuses, you can talk to me then. For now, I have to go."

"Wait," he reached for my hand, but there was no way in hell, "Where are you going?"

"I have practice."

"And after practice?" Mike would not let up today, would he?

"I'm having lunch with Victor."

"Of course," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I jumped on the defensive.

"It's always Victor!" Mike finally snapped. I knew he couldn't keep that in for long, "Choose."

"Excuse me?"

"Right now, Violet," he demanded, "It's either me or Victor. Which one will it be?"

"Victor, without question," I glared a hole through him. It's bullshit he was making me choose, but he made it an easy choice, "He's my best friend, Mike. Like it or not. He's saved my life. He gave me a home. He gave me two little boys that I love with all my heart. And I'm never going to leave that for someone that would put me in the position to pick between them."

"You teasing bitch," Mike snarled, "I should've known you really were some random bar slut."

"Chris didn't appreciate that," I pointed out, "By the way."

"What do you mean?" That got him to shut up.

"Christophe," I reiterated, "The hot, Swiss guy you were having sex with last night. He's a friend of mine. And he's also married to Victor. So, in a way, you got Victor's sloppy seconds twice."

"You're still wearing my collar, Violet," Mike blew me off, "You're still mine."

"Really?" I unhooked the back of it, dropping it to the cold, hard ground, "And now I'm not. Pozzhe, suka (Later, bitch.)."

Without another word, I walked off from Mike, his mouth hanging open like there was no brain in his head. Probably wasn't. Screw him. I didn't need that headache anymore. Somehow, I felt lighter. And just for laughs, I'm taking an iced Americano to the rink with me. And I may put an extra shot of espresso in, too, out of pure spite! No. I didn't want to have a heart attack today. I haven't had caffeine in a week. I didn't need to be that jacked.

"You feel better, Vi?" Gene asked, knowing damn well what the answer would be.

"I feel fantastic," I beamed, pushing the doors to the rink open.

Celestino was just finishing up with Yurio, "Violet, what are you doing here? I thought I gave you today off."

"And I told you I couldn't do it," I sat down on the bench, kicking my shoes off.

"You seem to be in good spirits," he gave me a look, "Are you on something?"

"I'm on life, Coach," I grinned, "I just had a weight lifted off my shoulders and I'm ready to get to work."

"If you say so," Celestino hid a smile from me. He knew what I just did. He's probably not happy that I was with Mike, but he knows exactly what kind of weight was lifted from my shoulders. He's gone. He's finally gone.

 **A/N: I'm so damn proud of her. Violet did all but kick Mike in the nuts. And honestly, I'd love to see her do that with her skates. HER KNIFE SHOES! And it's nice to have her home, too. She's got her boys. She's got her skating career back on track. Hopefully, this is a sign of good things to come for her. She deserves all the love in the world right now and probably could use it. I miss you guys. And I'll be back soon, ok? See you next chapter! xx**


	28. Time to Heal

**A/N: Hello, lovelies. How I missed you so. I did. I missed being home. I missed my computer. I missed my day-to-day life. My vacation sucked. I had low hopes for it and somehow, they managed to get lower. Now, I'm going to go over here and let you read. Sound good? Okie dokie.**

Between practice kicking my ass and finally standing up to Mike, telling him off once and for all, I'm absolutely destroyed. I ached all over the place. Some of my old skating wounds were starting to come back and haunt me. I needed a bottle of some sort. Whether it be water, vodka, painkillers, or possibly bleach. At this point, I'm willing to try anything to stop this. Even the physical heaviness in my chest was killing me. As soon as I got home, I threw myself in my bed. My big, beautiful, welcoming bed.

"Violet..." Gene poked his head in my bedroom, "Are you feeling ok?"

"Mildly," I groaned into my body pillow, "Why?"

"Just checking," he assured, "Making sure we don't need to visit Sonia at work today."

"What does Sonia do again?" I asked, not exactly all together up there.

"She's an emergency room doctor," Gene reminded me, "If you need anything, let me know, ok?"

"Ok." My head was throbbing. My legs were going to fall off. The jackhammer going up and down my spine was totally unwelcome. This was hell. I don't deserve this. Especially after the day I've had. Maybe I'll start with the vodka. I did have a bottle of Russian vodka in my cabinet, but Russian vodka always knocks me on my ass. I didn't need that.

Knock, knock.

Ugh...I didn't want to get up or deal with people, "Gene!"

"Yeah, Vi?" my bodyguard yelled from my living room.

"Could you get my door please?"

"Sure, sweetheart." I knew I loved him for a reason. I didn't deserve Gene. He's been nothing but good to me and I hope he never goes away. Gene came back into my room, "It's Victor. Are you in?"

"Victor can come in," I allowed, "He's alright. Victor!"

"Hey, Violet," Victor came in and sat at the edge of my bed.

"Hi, Victor," I sighed out, laying my head on his thigh. Victor has some phenomenal thighs. They're nice to lay on.

"Let me guess," he ran his hand through my long, purple hair. It was almost silver at this point. Kind of like his when we first met. The purple was starting to fade. I need to get it redone before I go back to competing, "Tired, are we?"

"I can't speak for you," I murmured into his muscle, "But I sure as hell am."

"Oh, dorogoy," Victor pulled me a little closer, "What am I going to do with you?"

"I just got out of practice," I whined, "Cut me a little slack."

"You look a little pale, Violet," he chucked me over.

"I always look a little pale."

"I know," Victor put his hand to my face, "But this is lighter than your usual pale. Do you feel ok?"

Oh, shit. I hate that Victor had a bloodhound's nose for sickness. It's even worse when it's for me. Relax, Violet. This could go one of two ways. I could be honest or I could lie through my teeth. What shall it be? Maybe there was a way for me to do both. You're a smart girl, Violet. Even in your delirium. I'm sure you can figure something out to pacify him. Although, I do still feel kind of icky.

"I think it's just general exhaustion," I stayed cryptic, "All I need is a nap, I'm sure."

"I don't think this is something a nap can fix," Victor assumed.

"Blasphemy..." I grumbled without its usual vigor.

"Violet," he scolded. If I didn't know any better, I'd think he was talking to one of the kids, "Are you getting sick?"

"No..." I answered quickly, knowing damn well what would come next if I were to say yes.

"Are you sure?" Dammit, Victor...

"Yes."

"Violet," he saw right through me, "Are you lying to me?"

"No," I shook my head, "Of course not."

"Really?" Victor let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "Then, explain your fever."

"I'm..." I had to think on my feet. And given my current state, a healthy mixture of exhaustion and delirium, that proved to be a feat in itself, "I'm just...warm?"

"Violet..." Yeah, Victor was having none of my bullshit today.

"Alright," I caved, "I guess I am getting a little sick. But it's nothing I can't manage."

"How long?" He totally knew better. Granted, I was tough as nails when I got sick, but Victor wouldn't allow it.

"Only since this morning," I promised, "But other than that, I've been fine."

That's also not a hundred percent true. I've been feeling a little off for the past couple weeks. I made the mistake of stretching myself thinner than what I needed to be and it took a toll on my body. Before some people jump to conclusions, I know for a fact that Mike didn't get me pregnant. He made sure of that. The empty boxes of Plan B kind of gave him away.

"I had a feeling you were getting sick," Victor cradled me in the way that only Victor could ever do. Even though I said I could stand some booze and some painkillers, right now, I needed nothing more than this, "I could see it all over your face this morning when you got up. Do you need anything right now?"

"I need a lot of things right now," I admitted, my body turning to jelly in Victor's arms, "Do you think Sasha does house calls?"

"Sasha's still in St. Petersburg," he giggled, "I don't think he'd make that far of a house call."

"Dammit," I pouted, "And I don't think any of my local connections are in town anymore."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart," Victor kissed my forehead, "Instead of all that, why don't you lay here and get some sleep, ok? A nap may not cure you, but it sure as hell couldn't hurt, right?"

"I like the way you think," a tiny squeak came out of the back of my throat, "Nighty night, Victor."

"Good night, Violet," he tucked me in, giving me a soft, gentle kiss, "I love you."

"I love you, too..." All I had to do was shut my eyes and that was all she wrote. It's bedtime for little Violets. Hell, I was struggling to keep them open when Victor got here. Once my head hit his pillow thigh, I was done.

Victor was always good for that kind of thing, though. One night, when I came back from the Red Room, I wanted to fling myself off the roof of the Empire State Building. Everything was completely shot. The line between my calf and my ankle became nonexistent and I thought I wasn't going to have any hip left. And to make matters worse, I got lucky and had to escort that night. But when I got home at four in the morning, Chris was already passed out on my couch and Victor sat in my postage stamp kitchen. He had a big ass cup of tea waiting for me and brought me into my bathroom.

Despite the fact that I had enough of a man touching my naked body that night, Victor understood exactly how exhausted and lifeless I was, so he asked me nicely if he could give me a bath. I wasn't going to say no. I felt disgusting after that and they didn't make water hot enough. And because Victor was, is, and always will be that extra bitch, he got a bath bomb out of his bag and took better care of me than anyone ever will. Right now, I wouldn't mind one of them again either. And my bathtub is much bigger this time around. I really have moved up in the world, haven't I?

A little while later, I woke up feeling like I got hit by a bus. Dammit, Victor. Why'd you have to let me sleep so late? It's pitch black outside, only with the soft glow of the city lights radiating around the streets below. It probably wouldn't take much for me to go back to sleep, but there was a delightful smell coming from my kitchen. A very distinct smell of bay leaves, garlic, and onion powder seasoned ground pork that could only mean one thing. Victor Nikiforov, why did I ever let you go?

I pulled myself out of bed and dredged to the kitchen. Sure enough, on my squeaky-clean counter sat a bowl of pelmeni still steaming from the pot. There was no evidence of any dishes anywhere else and Victor never made a little bit of pelmeni for me. I checked the fridge and I had a big, plastic bowl full. Victor, I love you.

"Morning, Vi," Gene still sat in my kitchen, twiddling his thumbs. Goddamn, Gene. You probably could've gone home an hour ago.

"Morning, Gene," I shoved my face full of yum and magic.

"How you feeling, princess?" he kicked a chair out for me.

"I've been better," I sat down, "But I should be ok. Victor's cooking could stop wars."

"Really?" Gene stole one pelmeni out of my bowl. I didn't have the energy to stab him and there's plenty more in the fridge. Besides, when Gene's eyes lit up with pure joy and happiness, it was a worthy sacrifice, "Oh, shit, you're right."

"I told you," I slumped over my table, "Speaking of, where did sweetie go?"

"He said he needed to check on his boys," he reported, "He shouldn't be gone too long."

"And how long has he been gone?"

"I don't know."

"Violet Isabella, what are you doing out of bed?" Uh-oh. Dad's home.

"I just woke up," I rubbed my eyes, "Leave me alone."

"No," Victor put his foot down, "Bed. Now."

"Yes, sir," I grabbed my bowl of pelmeni and curled back up in my bed.

"Look," he followed behind me, joining me at my bedside, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell at you. You know I worry and I only want what's best for you."

"I know," I dropped a dumpling in my mouth, content with the world, "But Victor…?"

"Yes, sweetheart," Victor pulled my hair out of my face, "What is it?"

"Why are you here?" I wondered.

"You know why I'm here."

"No, really," I nudged him along, "Why are you here? Why are you doing this for me?"

"Violet," Victor cradled me against his chest, "You know I love you. You know I care about you. And I wouldn't be doing this for just anyone."

"I know," I laid my head in his shoulder, "And the boys? Is there anything going on there I should know about?"

"Relax, dorogoy," he settled me, "Chris has got them taken care of. Everything's fine. Right now, it's just you and me. And well, Gene, but he's on his way out. I am here to take care of you in any way you could possibly need."

"Ok," I pulled my blanket over me, "Hey, Victor…?"

"Yes, Violet?"

I shut my eyes again, "Thank you…"

Victor kissed the top of my head, his lips curving up a little, "Always."

 **A/N: A nice, little chapter. I'm sorry that it's so short. It's going to take me a bit to get back in the swing of things, so please, internet. Please be patient with me. Being back in Michigan took a lot out of me and stunted me creatively, so give me a little time to get back to the way things used to be and suppress the hell out of that trip. The chapter's called Time to Heal. And it's not just Violet that's a little bit of an emotional and physical wreck. So, see you next chapter! xx**


	29. Extra Extra

**A/N: Hi, friends! Honestly, I didn't think this chapter was going to be out this late. But when I got to working on a skirt for my niece and doing some shopping and then, idiot me wanted to make curry. Regardless, I'm going to shut up now and let you read, ok?**

Mmm...I feel so warm. I felt around for my quilt and found a body instead. Wait...I felt around once more. Let's see. Thick muscles, soft skin. Ok. This is fine. This is perfectly ok. I'm sure his husband understands. I totally forgot Victor stayed with me last night. Not that I'm complaining. Although, in my blind feeling, something tells me that if I grabbed his ass, Chris and I would be having words. Instead, I rolled in Victor's chest, nuzzling my face in his ribs.

"Posmortri na eto (Look at this)," he smiled, looking down at me, "Good morning, dorogoy."

"Morning, Victor," i rubbed my eyes, "Do you know what time it is?"

"It's..." Victor got his phone off the nightstand, "Seven-thirty."

"You're shitting me," I groaned, "Wait...Were you here all night?"

"I think so..."

I hugged my best friend a little harder, "Thank you. I really thought you would've left after I fell asleep."

"No, no, no, sweetheart," Victor cradled me, "Of course I'm not leaving you. Especially not in the state you were in last night. How are you feeling?"

"Actually," I did a quick check of everything, "I think I'm good now."

"By the looks of it," he put his hand to my cheek, "Your fever's broken. All you needed was a little food and a little rest and a little love."

"And you managed to force all three on me," I teased.

"You're welcome," Victor kissed the top of my head, "Now, get up and go get ready, ok? You still have to go to practice, don't you?"

"Yeah."

"Go on," he insisted, "Or I'm going to get you ready. And we all know how much you love when I do it."

"Fine." Even when threats come out of Victor's mouth, they always manage to still sound so sweet. I knew it was coming from a place of love, "I need to see my costumer today, too."

"Not designing your own?" Victor wondered as I went through my closet, "The dark blue dress, Vi."

"Thank you!" Honestly, I was kind of stumped on what to wear today, "And as much as I'd love to, I don't have that kind of time. I need a good burlesque outfit and I need one now."

"Your qualifier's this weekend, isn't it?" he thought.

"Yep!"

"I'm sure you'll do fine," Victor assured, "You never lost the muscle. And you're still one of the best skaters I've ever known."

"Thanks, baby," I pulled a dark blue dress off its hanger. But then, I stopped in mid-reach, "Wait...I can't wear this."

"Why not?" he whined, "I like that dress on you."

"I still have practice," I reminded him, settling on a pair of dark blue leggings instead. That should be enough to pacify him. I paired them with a long sleeved gray shirt and headed into my bathroom.

"So?" Victor followed, "There's always after practice."

"When I have all intentions of meeting with my costumer and then, coming straight home?" I figured, getting into the shower, "No, thank you. Maybe after a nap and a shower if I get the ambition to go out again."

"You could finally meet Morgan!" Victor suggested, getting a little more excited than necessary.

"I'll be working my ass off today, Victor," I pointed out, "I have a qualifier in a couple days. If I don't have Lady Marmalade perfected by then, I'm boned. There goes my shot at another Grand Prix. Bye, Violet! Better luck making a comeback next year!"

"Violet," he settled me, "You know this qualifier is just a formality for you. If you don't make it through, it's an error in paperwork. You should know better than that. What has you doubting yourself?"

"I don't know," I sighed out, "I've been through hell for the last few months and I'm a little bit of a mess, Victor. In case you haven't noticed."

"You're fine," Victor promised, "Violet, you make music when you get on that ice. You tell a beautiful story. Tales of woe, tragedy, and romance. You've interpreted your old burlesque routines into a figure skating routine with the greatest of ease. And that was just off the cuff."

"I do make the ice my bitch..." I admitted, "Thanks, Victor. I needed that."

"That's what I'm here for."

I turned my shower off and grabbed my robe off the hook. Then, I threw my arms around him, "Please don't ever go away."

"I don't plan on it," Victor's embrace tightened, "That's for damn sure."

"Good," I grabbed my clothes and started getting dressed, "You wouldn't want to come hang around my practice, would you?"

"I'd love to," he bit his lip, "But I have Yuri to take care of. Rain check?"

"I can do that," I stood on my toes and kissed his cheek, "I need to get going, though. If I don't, either Madame or Celestino will have my ass on a silver platter and quite frankly, I don't feel like dealing with that."

"I get it," Victor has seen the wrath of Celestino firsthand. I'm pretty sure he wouldn't wish that on me. Again, "Go on. I'll see you later, ok?"

"Will you?" I gave him a look, "Is there something you know that I don't?"

"Are you not coming over today?"

"Fine." At the very least, I'd get Victor's cooking again. That sounded like a plan.

Victor and I parted ways and I headed to the Red Room. As per usual, the tables were moved, the chairs were flipped, and hot damn, no Ernie! It's going to be a good day. Now, if I were the Madame in a seedy burlesque club, where would I be? In the old days, she'd be having a cigarette in the back, but she had to quit smoking years ago to keep herself alive. Those were a rough couple months...

"Hi, baby!" Madame came in through the back door, "Traveling alone, are we?"

"Gene's got the day off," I told her, missing my bodyguard.

"Aww," she frowned, "So how you doing, Vi?"

"Much better than yesterday," I reported, fully ready for this.

"That's good," she beamed, "What happened yesterday after you left? Did you man friend take it like a man?"

"Oh, god, no," I rolled my eyes, "He didn't like that I had a friendship with Victor and made me pick between them. I thought it was bullshit and dropped my collar at his feet. Felt like a power move. I'm very proud."

"That's my girl," Madame praised, "I'm proud of you, Vi. You don't deserve someone that doesn't trust you around your married ex-husband."

"Thanks, Madame," I sat at the edge of the stage, "But Victor did stay with me last night. If Mike would've seen that, he would've had a goddamn heart attack right then and there."

"It's a good thing you don't have to worry about that anymore," she pointed out, "Now, come on. We got work to do. Other than the fact that you've pretty much got your routines down. We'll just call this pick-up."

"I'm ready," I nodded, "Let's do this!"

And so, Madame put on the playlist with all my routines on it and we ran it through. Until my feet started to throb and I wanted to throw myself into traffic. My god. I don't know if it was because qualifiers were rapidly approaching, but this was ridiculous. The only other teacher I've ever had that worked me this hard was Natalia and if Madame was yelling at me, I'd see no difference. But on the plus side, I kicked ass and took names. Good for me.

"Alright, sweetheart," Madame allowed, "Go ahead. Take a knee for the rest of the day. Until you have to go play with Celestino. Your qualifier's coming up, isn't it?"

"Yeah," I panted, doubling over a table. I miss Nat, "Saturday."

"Any idea what you're doing?"

"I'm not sure," I pulled up a chair, "What should I do?"

"You know," Madame thought, "I've seen your Lady Marmalade video. If I were you, I'd go with that."

"It is one of my favorite routines," I admitted, "Victor got me to do it. I wasn't going to do it, but he managed to talk me into it."

"Because that boy could sell life insurance to a ghost," she chuckled.

"I did it with the little ones watching me," I winced, "They were asking me to teach them the routine. There's no way in hell my babies are dancing burlesque. And I told Victor I wasn't going to because of that. But he talked me into it. Didn't like it, but I did it anyway. Now, I'll do it for the sake of my own enjoyment."

"See?" Madame gave me a nudge, "Listen to him once in a while. He knows what he's talking about. I always liked Victor. So pretty...So well-cut..."

"Not his type, Madame," I scolded, "And he's married."

"Looking, not touching," she defended, "That's the golden rule around here, is it not?"

"Unless Ernie says it's ok," I grumbled under my breath, gagging a bit.

"You're not doing that anymore, baby," Madame took my hand, "Now, why don't you go skate your little heart out? Make me proud."

"That's the plan," I pulled myself together, "Nothing a little flat white will cure."

"That's my girl," she helped me up, "Give Celestino my love."

"Always do!"

I limped out of the Red Room with an ache in my joints. Maybe I should go see my old physical therapist. I'm sure he'd be a lamb and put things back into place. Or yell at me and give me a list of random exercises that get things to go back to where they belong. Possibly even give me painkillers, but that'd be the only plus side. Those painkillers made me all tingly for a little while and then, I'd go to sleep easier.

"Violet!" Shit.

"Violet!"

Awesome. Just what I wanted to deal with today. Gene just had to have a day off. Thanks, OSHA. No...He can have some time off once in a while, too. I don't have a problem with that. But I really didn't have the energy and the intestinal fortitude to deal with asshole press today. I wish I had Victor's hoody, but unfortunately, things don't work out that way.

"Violet!"

"Over here!"

"Violet!"

"Where's your new boyfriend?"

"I don't have one," I pushed my way through the crowd.

"And what about you going to Cosmos?"

"Are you going back?"

"Can we get a statement?"

"How do you feel about Victor Nikiforov returning to the ice this season?"

"Are you single?"

"What's your next move?"

Wait a second...What was that?

Victor's doing what?!

No. Settle down, Violet. It's totally hearsay. Because there's no way Victor would be thinking about a comeback now. Not when I'm about to do the same. Don't trust the press. You know better than that. Victor's your best friend. If he was going to come back to the skating world, he'd definitely tell me…Right?

 **A/N: We know. We know Victor's been thinking about it. Whether or not it's actually been done is still up in the air. Damn press, swarming like vultures on poor, little Violet when she's without her bodyguard for the day. First, can we talk about how cute Victor is? Victor's a precious individual. I love how he takes care of Violet. It's always been that way, though. And he's my baby. I love him and I want to keep him in my pocket. I'm sorry that this chapter is so short, but I'm going to go over here and rest my already fried brain. Good night and I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	30. The Rumor Mill

**A/N: Hi there, you cutie pie, you! How are we today? Doing well, I hope? First, before we get to the fun and adventure and the resolution of last week's cliffhanger, guess what? I have some good news I'm saving for the end. If you're also here for my Mystic Messenger fic or my Ouran fic, you already know. But you guys get even MORE good news! I, uh…I posted an Otayuri one-shot last Saturday called Pierced Through the Heart if you're interested. It's good, old-fashioned fluff. I like it. I think it's cute. If you want to give it a little lookie-loo, that'd be cool. Now, how about the chapter for today, yeah? Ok.**

No. He wouldn't do that to me. If Victor was making a comeback to the skating world, he would've told me about it. We would've had one of those nights where we split a bottle of rosé and he pins me down for the sake of taking care of my skin. This is probably the press trying to rile me up since I've been behaving myself lately. They don't have a story of Violet Plisetsky's meltdown to sell, so they want to stir up shit with Victor and me.

I could see the headlines now. Violet Plisetsky drops Victor Nikiforov over his comeback. Since we made public statements after the divorce that there was no drama between us, that bomb got diffused before it was even made. I'm sure if they were to blow this up, I'd be the one made out to be the bitch. Victor was, is, and always will be the skating world's golden child. Me? I'm just the whore that got lucky and fell into his charitable lap. Then, no doubt, the bitch that broke his heart.

No. Victor wouldn't do that to me. Not my Victor. I'm just overthinking a rumor that's probably not even true. Once I slipped the mob of vultures, I got myself an iced coffee and decided I'd go look in on my boys. Victor and Yuri were still probably practicing their program for the seasons. And the rink they practiced at wasn't too far from here. It'll be a nice surprise for both of them. Besides, after something like that, who better to make me feel human again than Victor?

When I got to their home base, I saw Yuri take a pretty hard fall. But to my surprise, he hardly flinched. Yuri got right back up and took a couple laps to get his speed back. Wow. Hard to believe he was the same little boy who cried buckets on our kitchen counter just a year ago over scraped up shins. I'm so proud of you, Yuri. But please. Be careful. Know your limits. It's bad enough that I had to have that talk with Yurio. I don't need to have it again.

I hung back for a while, keeping myself hidden. The last thing I wanted to do was be a distraction. If Yuri caught sight of me, there's not a doubt in my mind he'd come running. He needed to practice, too. Although, I wasn't expecting his daddy to step on the ice, too. I'm sure he's just helping Yuri by example. That's always the way Victor's taught. It's how he taught me how to skate. Don't let the press rile you up, Violet. That's what they want. Happy place.

I could watch Victor skate for hours. The way his body moved made pure poetry that could bring Shakespeare to his knees. That man could tell his life story on ice. His movements were so graceful and so complex, yet Victor pulls them off with the greatest of ease. They were enough to make anyone swoon. But then, a few new ones caught me off guard. Victor usually had a specific set of moves he'd do while practicing with Yuri. I knew damn well he wasn't having Yuri do quads. Victor's skating pretty hard.

Wait…I don't think this is just a practice for Yuri. Someone's shaking the rust off. You son of a bitch…

"You are making a comeback!" I screeched at the top of my lungs, trying to hold back how pissed off I was.

"Oh!" Victor cut the music, "Hi, Violet!"

"Mama!" Yuri squeaked, skating excitedly over to me and jumping into my arms.

"Yuri," I put him down, not breaking my glare at his father, "I want you to go to the locker room."

"But Mama," he clung to me, "I…"

"Yuri," I repeated, "Go to the locker room. I need to have a word with your father. Go now."

"Ok," Yuri let me go and did as he was told.

"Violet?" Victor checked me over, confused and worried, "Are you ok? You look like a mess."

"I just got jumped by press on my way home from practice," I grumbled.

"Oh my God," he gasped, putting his hand to my cheek, "They didn't hurt you, did they?"

"Possibly," I started to relax a little. I knew I had to ask him, but it was nice that Victor still cared about my well-being, "Victor…I need you to ask something and please answer it honestly."

"What's on your mind, sweetheart?" Victor took a seat on the partition.

"Are you making a comeback this season?" I asked bluntly. There was no other way to do it.

"What?" he squeaked, "No."

"Victor…" I could see right through him, "You've always been a horrible liar."

Victor looked down at the skates on his feet with a hint of shame, "You're not the only one who misses it, Vi. The lights, the crowds, laying all you've got out on that ice. I miss it terribly. When Chris and I were in Malta and made the side trip for your vodka, we ran into Yakov. What can I say? He makes a compelling argument. He told me that all I'd have to do is ask and he'd coach me again. We're just trying things out for now. Yakov should be in the US in a few days. How did you find out?"

"Some reporter asked me about it." I think I'm going to throw up, "Initially, I thought it was just a rumor. A little something, something to set me off and get me pissed."

"Are you mad?" he winced.

I let out a heavy sigh, doing my best to hold myself together, "No. I'm not mad that you're making a comeback. In fact, I'm glad you are, Victor. You have an incredible talent that's loved by millions around the world. It just would've been nice to hear it from you instead of some random asshole reporter shoving a camera in my face."

"Violet…"

I wasn't sticking around. If I did, I would've said things I know I would've regretted. Like how I can't believe he's doing this. I could see us coming back together. Like, together, together. Like we were going to pair skate again. But oh, no! I can't believe he's doing it by himself. I can't have anything, can I? Heaven forbid I have ONE THING. I just wanted to go back and skate. Right now, I need this more than he does. I needed a friend. But I'm pissed off at Victor. DAMMIT! Well, I did have more than one. I went back to my building and stopped exactly a floor under my own. I knocked on the door, even though I knew I didn't have to.

"Hi, Violet," Chris answered the door.

"Mama?" Yurio squeaked, running to me. Honestly, despite me being so pissed off, Yurio got me to calm down a little. He scaled my leg up to my shoulder and wrapped his arms around my neck.

"Hi, baby," I cuddled him, "Don't get me wrong, kid. It's always good to hang out with you, but why don't you run up to my condo? I'm in a gaming mood and I'm thinking something extra bloody and extra violent."

"Awesome!" he chimed, "And I get to play with Nadya, too?"

"Go ahead," I allowed, "Actually, if you could put a scoop of food in her bowl, I'd appreciate it."

"Ok," Yurio scurried out the door and headed to my place. He's not going to say no to that.

"So, Violet," Chris invited me in, "What's up?"

"Are you busy?" I asked, taking a seat at the table.

"No," he sat with me, "Why do I get the feeling you're about to punch me?"

"Our husband pissed me off," I pouted, "Did you know he was making a comeback?"

"I didn't know he was making it official," Chris admitted.

"He is," I snapped, "I had a reporter jumping down my throat about it today and it hit me. Once news of his comeback becomes official, they're not going to care about me anymore. His will always overshadow mine. And it's bullshit. I've been planning this since the end of last season. He took my announcement away from me and now, he might as well be taking the wind out of my sails, too."

"I'm sorry to say this, Violet," he apologized, "But maybe you might be a tad jealous."

"I'm not jealous!" I jumped on the defensive, only making myself seem guiltier of it, "I might be a little, but can you blame me? If golden boy Victor Nikiforov comes back, no one's going to even think to pay attention to me. I hate to sound like that whiny bitch, but he's already got everything. It'd be kind of nice for karma to kick a little something my way for a change. I thought it did when we went to Cosmos, but…Well…We all know how that ended."

"You'll be fine," Chris took my hand, "I know you will be. Think about it this way. You're already infamous. Between your trips to Cosmos that made the papers and your relationship with Victor, there's still eyes on you."

"Yeah," I grumbled, "Because I'm an absolute trainwreck. Thanks, Chris. You know how to cheer a girl up."

"Not necessarily," he clarified, "Yes. They may have you painted as a trainwreck now, but what do people love more than a trainwreck?"

"A dumpster fire?"

"A comeback story," Chris pointed out, "You may have been at your rock bottom and they still think you're there. But they haven't seen your comeback yet. There's no need for you to worry, Violet. Once you get back on the ice, I know they'll be watching you. Good or bad, there's always going to be eyes on you, Violet."

"Thanks, Chris," I laid my head on the table, "I think I'm going to head home. I got Yurio waiting for me upstairs. Although, there's a chance I might be sending him back. I'm pretty beat."

"That's fine," he hugged me tight, "We love you, Violet. Regardless of what everyone else thinks. If all else fails, we won't leave you."

His words offered little comfort. But a little was better than nothing. It sucked that I'd be kicking Yurio out. The ass beating in whatever game he and I decided would be a nice catharsis. But I needed some time to myself. I'm just glad he took it like a champ. Yurio knew he was always welcome to come over any time. Just not right now. Right now, Mama wanted to drink her feelings and she couldn't do that with a little one in the house.

I mixed up a batch of lemonade and got my Russian vodka off the shelf. I'm getting wasted tonight and no one's going to stop me. Something about vodka and my hot tub seemed to go well together. Well, Violet. It's just me and me. How about a toast? Here's to the true feeling of rock bottom of my skating career. Here's to the twenty-degree difference between living in the spotlight and living in my best friend's shadow. And here's to the liquid of his homeland that will help me forget it all.

Knock, knock.

Oh, hell. Why? Why couldn't I sit and get drunk in my hot tub in peace? What the hell? I'm already six glasses down. I yelled from my balcony, "It's open!"

Creak…

"Hi, Violet." Son of a bitch. Looks like it's time to down number seven.

"What do you want, Victor?" I started mixing my next drink, getting some of the lemonade in the hot tub. Oh, well. I could just call the building manager. He'll clean it for me.

"Can we talk?" he asked, taking a seat at the edge.

"Sure," I allowed, under just enough that I was already in and out.

"Look," Victor held my hand under the water, "I am sorry I didn't tell you. Really, I am. I didn't realize it would even upset you."

"I told you," I slurred a bit, "I'm fine."

"Good," he relaxed, "Because I'm making it official before the qualifier Saturday."

"That's fine," I allowed, internalizing everything as much as I could.

It was, in fact, not fine at all. I know Chris tried putting things into perspective, but what can I say? I'm human. _Ura._

 **A/N: That last word? It's the Russian word for cheers. But that's not the point. The fact that Vi's getting trashed? That's a tad troubling. Also, I kind of love Chris and Violet's friendship. I find it endearing. We all deserve a Chris in our lives for when our mutually shared husband is under our skin. Now, do you want to hear my other good news?**

 **Do you guys remember when I was still posting for Adopted last year and out of nowhere, you got an entire week's worth of updates? Well, guess what?**

 **BOMB WEEK'S BACK, BITCHES! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to call you bitches. That wasn't nice. But my enthusiasm remains. For those of you who are new, bomb week is when I…well, I basically explained it already. Now, bomb week for you, friends is going to start (Yes. Mark your calendars.) August 13th. Now, for the new babies in the back, we're going to be on hiatus until then. And once I post on the 17th, we won't be back until September. When in September, I'm not totally sure on. Because I may post a week for FictionPress, too. Because they don't get nearly the amount of love you guys do. Mostly because of a bad start and people being dicks over there a lot. Not lately, though. Regardless, will you guys be ok until then? Because I'll miss you. I thought, what better way to celebrate the account birthday month than doing some bomb week action? It'll be on the 2nd, for those of you curious. Now, I have other things to do and I really have to pee. Is that too much information? It might be. Doesn't make it any less true. See you next chapter! xx**


	31. Salt on the Rim

**A/N: Hi. How are you? Doing well, are we? I hope so. Because, my friends, it's Yuri on Ice bomb week. From now until Friday, it's just the two of us. I sure do hope you enjoy this week. I know I will. But because it's been a couple weeks, how about a quick recap? If you're reading this in the future, feel free to skip this bit. If you're reading this in real time…**

 **So, Victor's making his comeback. Violet's not sure how to feel about it. And the night before, she toasted to the Russian gods. Now, we're at the morning after. Enjoy, friends.**

I hate when I angry drink. When I angry drink, I don't stop until I pass out. And when that happens, I feel like absolute shit the next morning. Violet, I love you, but what the hell, man? You're still pissed. You're painfully hungover. You have a full day of practice today. And to make matters worse, you're short a bottle of Russian vodka. That's not something you can come by so easily. Just fantastic. As much as I want to curl up in bed and go back to sleep, I can't miss practice. Not so close to competition. Come on, Violet. Out of bed. Into the shower. Get your one good puking session in. Get your flat white. Get to the Red Room.

The more I can make myself look perfectly fine, the better. Madame can sniff out a hangover from a mile away and she'd kick my ass for this. Especially if she knows I was angry drinking. That kind of shit has damn near killed me once before. And Madame was the one to find me. I will never ever put her through something like that ever again.

Alright. Sweats, coffee, skates, aspirin, stomach meds. I should be good. Do I put on a little bit of makeup, too? Or would that tip her off too much? Yeah. What the hell? Just enough to cover the dark circles and poor choices. I dug around in my makeup bag for my good bottle of concealer that could hide anything and covered up the hellish dark circles. I looked like I fell asleep with black makeup on. Not happening. I may have gotten trashed last night, but I could still manage to be a responsible adult. My bright white bedding would not see a stitch of mascara.

Knock, knock.

Eww...If you could knock quieter, dude, that'd be cool. Maybe I should get one of those signs new parents get for their babies. Instead of saying I have a newborn and work nights, it could say cranky bitch that likes to drink her feelings went on a bender last night. If you could not knock so loud, that'd be best for all involved. Most importantly, the poor baby that's teething and had a little too much whiskey on her gums.

"Violet?" Gene called out, "Hello?"

"Dammit, Gene!" I threw on a pair of big sunglasses, "Could you not?"

"Sorry," he brought it down to a whisper, "Hard night last night, sweetheart?"

"Yeah," I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder, "And I'm thoroughly hating myself for it. Could we keep this between us?"

"Sure," Gene swore, wrapping his arms around me, "You poor baby. Let me guess. You don't want Celestino to know?"

"Worse."

He thought on it for a second, "Victor?"

"He knows," I rolled my eyes, keeping them shut until the room stopped spinning, "Like I give two shits if Victor knows I've been drinking anymore."

"Who would be worse than Victor and Celestino?" Gene wondered, getting the door for me?"

"The Madame," I told him, "She's got a stick up her ass about that kind of thing. The amount of times I've seen her pump girls full of vitamin B must be a record of some sort. Myself included. She doesn't like that kind of energy on her stage."

"That's understandable," he shrugged it off. Easy for him to say. He's not in my boat. As the elevator opened, the universe continued to take the most massive shit on me.

"Dobroye utro," Yakov greeted me. Awesome. Just awesome. Hungover, pissed off beyond belief, and now, Yakov to top it all off! Absolutely wonderful...

"Morning, Yakov," I extended the same courtesy, "I'm assuming you're looking for Victor."

"Yes," he nodded, "With qualifiers on Saturday, he needs to get in all the practice he can get right now."

"Well," I corrected him, "You overshot. Victor's a floor down."

"Oh," Yakov didn't like being told he was wrong. Even more when it's me. I guess I could feel a little good about that, "Don't let me keep you."

"I'm on my way to practice anyway," I pointed out, "It won't kill us to share an elevator."

"I know that," he growled, pouting on the back wall.

"Dammit, Yakov!" I wasn't dealing with it today, "Do you think you could stow the bitter, angry bullshit for one goddamn floor?"

Both Yakov and Gene froze. I was in no mood to deal with anyone. If that makes me a bitch, then so be it! I needed some coffee and I needed it now. The three of us rode the elevator for fifteen long and painfully uncomfortable seconds. Once Yakov got off the elevator, things were back to being calm and quiet again. Things were a little less angry.

"Hey, Vi..." Gene worried as we left the lobby, "Are you..."

"Gene," I put a finger up, "You know what kind of mood I'm in and how messy that question is for me."

"Right," he bit his tongue. Good. I just wanted a quiet cab ride from here to the Red Room. Was that too much to ask for? Although, I did feel bad about being such a bitch to Gene. Not so much to Yakov. He had it coming. But Gene? Gene didn't deserve that. Later.

For now, I had a dance practice to get to. I hope to God that Madame's bloodhound senses were off today. That'd be fantastic. I tossed my bag on the table and got hit with a sudden flashback to when I still danced here. Angry drinking wasn't always the cause, but depressed and disgusted drinking would usually be the culprit. And always after a long night of Ernie making me escort.

"Good morning, Violet," Madame picked up on my sunshiny demeanor, "I'd ask you how you are, but that face gives everything away."

"Thanks, Madame," I finished my latte, "You know how to make me feel better, don't you?"

"Hey," she snapped, shoving her finger in my face, "What have I always told you about that attitude?"

"There's only room for one bitch in here," I remembered, "And it's not me?"

"Exactly," Madame ranted, "And you know I'm not dealing with whatever bitchy attitude crawled in your ass today."

"Sorry, Madame," I jumped behind the bar. Eleven o'clock in the morning is late enough to start, isn't it? And a screwdriver would absolutely hit the spot right now.

"Violet Isabella," she scolded, "What do you think you're doing?"

"Having some orange juice."

"Bullshit," Madame saw through me, "What else is going in that orange juice?"

"Nothing," I lied, sneaking a shot of Russia's finest into my glass.

"A little early, don't you think?"

"If I pair it with some avocado toast," I figured, "I can call it brunch."

"Whatever," Madame caved, "As long as you can keep yourself on your feet."

"Thank you." A quick screwdriver and I was right as rain again.

"Now," she wondered, "What's eating you, baby? You've been a bundle of joy since you got here. And I'm sure it's not nothing."

"Victor pissed me off," I came clean, "His royal highness couldn't stay out of his warm spotlight for too long."

"So, he's making a return, too?"

"Ran into his old coach in the elevator this morning," I finished my drink, debating on making another one.

"So?" Madame shrugged, "That doesn't mean anything. Maybe he was just in the neighborhood."

"All the way from Russia..."

"Oh," she changed her tune real quick, "Maybe not in the neighborhood."

"He's making it official Saturday," I grumbled, "His timing couldn't be better."

"Then, shouldn't we get to work?" Madame suggested, "The judges won't have any other choice than to look at you."

Strangely enough, that was all it took to light a fire in my belly. For the rest of practice, all I could focus on was how much it sucked to be in Victor's shadow. All I wanted was to feel the warm glow of sunshine on my face. Was that too much to ask for? After all I've been through and after Victor got his year of traveling the world and the crowd eating him up, I thought he'd be able to extend the same goddamn courtesy. Would that really be so difficult? Did his ego need that much stroking?"

"Alright, Vi," Madame called it, "You need to tighten up your moves just a touch more and go cool off. Other than that, I think we're done here. Kiss Celestino for me."

"Do that yourself," I threw my bag over my shoulder, "Doesn't he have to drop Yurio off yet? Or did he get him a new teacher?"

"I still get Yurio," she assured, "But Chris has been the one dropping him off lately. And he's always wearing oven mitts for some reason. I don't ask."

"Yurio's a biter," I clarified, "And if Chris gets too close, Yurio won't hesitate."

"Have I mentioned how much I adore your son?"

"Maybe once or twice." That was enough to bring a smile to my face, "I'll see you later, Madame."

"Bye, baby."

That felt good while it lasted. Only one thing could center me better than a good dance practice. I'm hot and sweaty. I could use the cold, unforgiving ice to take me down a bit. With qualifiers on Saturday, the extra practice won't kill me. Maybe I could stay a little longer after Celestino tells me I can go home. As long as I don't end up with stress fractures, I doubt he'll have a problem with it.

"Morning, Violet," Celestino greeted me, "Come va?"

"I'm in a mood, Coach," I threw my bag on the bench, fighting every desire I had to go home, "I need you to put on the Cell Block Tango please."

"Are you sure?" he wondered, "That's not on your set list."

"Like I said," I slipped my feet into my skates, "I'm in a mood and I need to skate it off if that's ok with you."

"Alright," Celestino let me go. He knew I was in a not so good place not to piss me off any further. Besides, my set list was second nature to me. Who knows? Maybe it'll do a girl some good to get a few things off my chest. Where better to vent my anger than out on the ice? Skating worked so much better than therapy. Hopefully, the ice will cure what the vodka didn't.

Which brings me to know. My current desire and ability to kill a man. No warning shots. No poison. No knives. Just him and me. My hands around his neck. The satisfaction of watching the life drain from his eyes. His limp body falling to the ground...

No. I couldn't kill someone. If it came down to it. Unless there was proper provocation. If someone was trying to hurt me or God forbid one of my boys, then I don't think I'd hesitate. Even though I couldn't kill a man in the literal sense, I sure as hell wouldn't mind kicking one's ass to the damn moon right about now.

What the hell, Victor? We're best friends. We have been for quite some time. I'd think we'd tell each other everything. Especially something as big as a freakin' comeback! Did you think I wouldn't want to hear that? Did you think it'd distract me from my own? Because not telling me has been more of a distraction. Did you think I wouldn't be happy for you?

Honestly, as of right now, I don't think I am. I know I should be and it's a shitty thing for me to say, but I'm not. Clearly. If it was bad enough for me to go on last night's bender. Victor's comeback totally blindsided me and that's absolute bullshit. I had no idea he even wanted to skate professionally ever again. I bet that once I told him how I wanted to do it, that made him think he had to one-up me. Heaven forbid if Violet wants to have something to call her own.

When the song came to an end, I fell onto the ice, just to add a little drama to my performance. Totally not because the six spins I did and the sitting spin I finished with didn't make me want to throw up or anything. Nope. I was in top physical condition this morning. Well...Afternoon, but now's not the time for semantics. Ok. I needed a trash can. And I need it now. I doubled over the edge and let out the most pleasant puke I've had today. I wasn't expecting another fit like this today. Maybe this was another case of less hangover, more real sick. Of course, to no surprise, this set Celestino's radar off.

"Violet?" he ran his hand down my back, "Stai bene, bambina?"

"I'm fine," I shook it off, pulling myself back together, "I'm good."

"If it's any consolation," Celestino praised, "You did very well today. Whatever had you so upset, whoever pissed you off, I hope they don't run into you in a dark alley."

"Thanks, Coach." Despite my feeling like shit, I've never felt so ready for qualifiers. I got enough out of my system. And I will absolutely, without a doubt, wipe the floor with Victor if I have to.

After practice, I started taking a walk. How do I kill the rest of my afternoon? Well...With the way I was feeling, I could probably go back to Cosmos...No. Fool me once. Not stepping foot back in that place. Don't get me wrong. Willam was a sweetheart and a damn good friend when need be, but I have visions of Vietnam like flashbacks and quite frankly, I didn't need to deal with that.

Although, my aching joints were telling me to go home. I am too young for my body to feel this old! It'll be fine. I had my hot tub for a reason. I just need to go home and soak for a while. Something tells me it'll be a while before I move again. Instead, I walked into my condo, straight to my bedroom, and flopped down on my bed. That sleep I was in such desperate need for? That decided to come first. Not that I'm complaining. A good, long nap was exactly what I needed.

When I woke up, I immediately put my black bikini on and slipped into my hot tub with a very cold lemonade in my hand. No vodka tonight. The little bit I had this morning was just enough to kill the pain. Oh, the jets...The jets know what spots hurt. They hit them every time. Like a heat seeking missile for my pain. This was definitely worth the extra money.

Knock, knock.

That sucked a little less than this morning. Oh, yeah. That nap was totally needed, "It's open!"

"Dobryy vecher dorogaya (Good evening, darling)," Victor walked in.

"Hi, Victor!" I yelled back, "On the balcony."

"I should've known," he came out, "Feeling ok?"

"Fine," I still wanted to punch his perfect face, but life's too short to hold grudges.

"Good," Victor chirped, "Hey, I'm cooking tonight. Care to join us?"

"Thanks, but no, thanks, sweetie," I turned him down, "I got Indian food on its way. I appreciate the offer, though."

"Ok," he wasn't quite sure what to make of that. It's a rarity I ever turn down Victor's cooking. Honestly, I didn't want to be in the same, uncomfortable room with him. I'm not ready for something like that. I didn't even have food on the way. Right now, since I felt sufficiently like a fully cooked noodle, I think it's time to go to bed.

 **A/N: So, in case it wasn't painstakingly obvious, Violet's a tad salty. And a bit on the sick side. And we all know how Victor gets when he finds out she's sick. But she turned down his cooking. You know a dog is truly sick when it doesn't eat. It's fine. Totally fine. See you tomorrow! xx**


	32. Beware the Dragon

**A/N: This was a toughie, guys. The writer's block was real on this Tuesday. Let's read together, shall we?**

For the next few days, my routine was the same. Wake up. Eat my bagel. Get my coffee. Go to practice. Come home. Spend an hour or two in the hot tub. Go to bed. It was just like when I first started skating and I loved it. I missed that kind of stability. It's strange. The last time things were like this, I had Victor to keep me on the straight and narrow. Little did I know, I didn't need him to do that. I could do it all on my own. Good for you, Vi. I'm proud of you.

That was a mess I wasn't quite ready to clean up. Was I purposefully avoiding Victor? Not exactly. We live in the same building. We're bound to bump into each other. But I've been so busy lately. Between practice and recovery, I have no room to make time in my schedule. However, that may or may not be by design...Yes, I do need an hour or two of extra practice and I may be doing that so I'm not home...For avoidance purposes.

It's fine. I'm fine. It's Victor. Why would I want to avoid him? Was I really going to hold that grudge? Would I be that petty bitch? No. I still loved him. Deep in my heart of hearts, I couldn't be pissed off at Victor forever. If I wasn't so tired right now, I'd go downstairs and extend my well wishes. But both he and I needed the rest. We had the formalities of qualifying to go through in the morning.

Unfortunately, women's qualifying was first. We had women's qualifying, then men's qualifying, then junior's. I would not miss my boys. Although, I don't think they have to go through that since they were last year's first and second place at the Junior Grand Prix. I'm pretty sure that gave them a free pass. Their father and I, on the other hand...Since we've been out of the game for a while, we'd have to qualify. But like Victor said. It's merely a formality for us.

With the way my practices have been lately, I could only see this as a formality. I've been kicking ass at practice. And to make things even better, qualifying was being held at my home rink. I knew every square inch of that ice like the back of my hand. If I'm not in the running this year, it's because someone screwed up their scorecard. Alright, Violet. Let's go out and make some magic happen. You've been working on this routine for months now. Time to see the hard work pay off.

I grabbed my bag and headed for the rink. Given that it's a special occasion, I wanted to bring out my mint skates I got last year, but at my costumer's insistence, I got a new pair to go with my burlesque costume. And an even stranger pair to go with my S&M costume. I got to hand it to her, though. It can't be easy to incorporate bright red stilettos and knee high, black leather boots into ice skates. They didn't take me long to get used to, though, so I had that going for me.

I was hardly outside the rink with Celestino and press decided to swarm me. And they wonder why I suddenly travel with a bodyguard. All of the questions they were collectively shouting at me were only about one thing. What do I think about Victor's comeback? Do I know what he's going to do? Have I seen any of his practices? Do I even have a career? Do they even give a shit about that? If Celestino wasn't pushing me along, I would've answered them in a not so nice way. That's not the way Celestino raised me. I had to find my happy, sexy place before I go on.

"Violet," a deep, angry Russian accent called out to me, catching me by surprise, "Davai."

"Thank you, Yakov," I stopped for a moment, "What are you doing here? Isn't Victor's qualifier later?"

"Yes," he nodded, "But I thought I'd come down and wish you luck. Professional courtesy."

"I appreciate it," I smiled, having a sudden flashback to the other day, "And about the other day...I'm sorry. You caught me on a hangover day and I was already pissed off and..."

"I understand," Yakov cut me off, "And I'm sorry, too. I lied to you."

"What do you mean?"

"It's more than professional courtesy," he clarified, "Your ex-husband is hiding somewhere around here. He dragged me here to show me how much you've improved since the old days."

"Violet..." Celestino took my hand, "Come on. You need to get ready. You've drawn third."

"Ok," I started to settle down, "Bye, Yakov."

"Good luck," Yakov sent me off and I headed back to the locker room.

Oh, son of a bitch. I forgot what this felt like. There were way too many people in this locker room. And I may be getting claustrophobic. Nature of the beast, Violet. You knew what you were getting back into. And you knew how extra Celestino was for you. In the old days, I'd text Victor and have him come rescue me from the torturous hell that awaited me. I'll be ok.

No matter how rough my stylist was. Or how artistic the makeup artist wants to get. Or they both yell at each other in different languages because one's getting in the other's way. And I have to be the one in the middle having to translate this in my head. I still couldn't understand a word of it, but I try. It was giving me flashbacks to when my parents would fight in front of me out of absolute nowhere, but they wouldn't go through with the divorce. They worked through it, though. Good for them.

When I finished getting ready, I felt like I needed a smoke break with the way they just worked me over. Even Mike was gentler than that. Ooh...I think I just had one of those weird chi-aligning moments that put me in the right place. That right mixture of pain and pleasure. And like riding a bike, I fell right back into the old pattern. I knew what I'd be doing. Because the bustier and the garter belt didn't give that away.

Again, my costumer was an absolute genius. And I'll explain why shortly, but for now, I had a thing to do. Alright. I think I'm ready. This was it. I watched as the chick in the second slot started her routine. Mine shouldn't be too terribly far behind. But then, the wave of nerves came. I thought I was going to have another...ahem...Experience like the one I had the other day at this very rink. Luckily for me, I had a bagel in my stomach to keep it on the level for now. I just didn't want to be tasting that bagel twice.

"Mama!" I heard a sweet, excited little voice in the crowd. And then, attack my leg. And I've never been so happy to see one of my babies in my life, "You look like a ballerina. I thought you said you were doing Lady Marmalade for qualifying."

"I am," I picked Yurio up and sat him on my hip. There's going to come a day where I can't do that anymore. And that'll be a day that breaks my heart, "I promise. Don't worry about my costume. It's got a few little tricks. You'll see."

"Does it have pockets?" he wondered, clinging onto my arm for dear life.

"Does it have pockets...?" I scoffed, promptly sticking my hand in a pocket, "Have you just met me, child? Of course it has pockets. Where else am I going to put random pieces of candy?"

"I love you, Mama," Yurio laid his head on my shoulder.

"I love you, too, dovahkiin," I kissed his forehead, "Where's your father and your uncle and your brother?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "I ran off."

"Yuri," I scolded him, "You know better. We've had this talk."

"I wanted to find you," Yurio cuddled into me, "All the reporters wanted to talk about Victor and how great his is and it's smothering."

"I know what you mean," I empathized, "Alright. Just this once! I won't yell at you about it. Next time, if they start hounding you personally, I want you to find Gene before you find me, ok? If anyone can get them to stop, it's him."

"Ok," he nodded. My poor baby. I feel like I've been neglecting him lately in my adventures of avoiding Victor. I hugged him a little tighter. Please forgive me, baby. Mama's had a lot of shit on her plate and she needed to take care of her for a while.

"Violet," Celestino joined us, "You're on, tesoro."

"Wish me luck, baby," I put Yurio down.

"Good luck, Mama," he beamed, "Go be my dragon."

I stopped in my tracks, "What?"

"You always tell me to be your little warrior when I go on the ice and it gets me fired up," Yurio pointed out, "And because you say I was born to a dragon and you're my mama, go be my dragon."

I swear. Out of the mouths of babes. Yurio damn near made me cry. I got down on his level and hugged him one last time, "Thanks, Yuri. I will."

It's a good thing this mascara's waterproof. Between the sweat and the tears, I had to work through it. Once they called my name, I skated to the middle of the ice. The rink was dead silent. A pin dropping would sound like gunfire through a loudspeaker. Not sure if that's a good sign or not. Immediately, my stomach started to knot up again. No, Violet. You've worked too hard to choke here. Remember what Yurio said. Be the dragon he thinks you are.

As soon as the first snaps started playing, my head went to a completely different place than I thought it would. It's a Saturday night. I'm a couple years fresh out of high school and sick of living in the middle of nowhere, so a girl's got to move to the city, right? Unfortunately, she doesn't realize how hard it's going to be living on her own like that. After countless, pain in the ass roommates, she finally manages to get a job where she can live somewhat comfortably.

However, it takes her a minute to realize another harsh truth. It's not exactly the most savory work. But it keeps food in her stomach and clothes on her back...when she's not on the clock. But that's ok. She's got to do what she's got to do, I guess. It'll only be a temporary job. It's not like she's going to be working that same club for the next three years, having strange men sweat over her. No. Not her. That wasn't in the plan.

But it happened anyway. Other shit got in the way. She couldn't live her life she needed. But then, like an angel sent from God, one man would walk into that club. She wasn't exactly his type, but it didn't matter. Because he'd get her out of there. Out of nowhere, my routine lost its sex appeal and turned into love, rather than lust. I didn't like that. That really wasn't in the plan. Come on, Violet. You're getting to that sweet spot in the climax of this story. Because it's time to strip the innocence.

I did a sitting spin to get myself wound down and the crowd guessing. What's going on? What is this? Is Violet about to do something extraordinary? Remember when I said there was a secret to my costume that would be explained later? Well, just as Christina's voice started coming in, that's when I started tearing clothes off. Sort of. My seamstress is a genius. I tore the Velcro at the waist and on the top, turning my soft pink ballerina outfit into my deep red and gold burlesque costume. The tulle made for an excellent hoopskirt alternative. Good for you, Katherine! Four for you.

The crowd shook the rink as Lady Marmalade made her professional debut. I threw my garter belt into the audience, curious as to who actually caught it. The lights were too bright, though. Here it is. My moment in the sun. I didn't have to go so hard here, but I was running on adrenaline, spite, and caffeine. Why the hell not? I deserved my moment in the sun, dammit. And holy hell, if I wasn't getting it. Oh, yeah. This is nice. This is what I missed the most. Yes, complete strangers. Give me my validation. I soaked in the applause like a sponge. This was my happy place.

I think it's safe to say I made it.

 **A/N: Yurio made me cry. Yurio…I don't even know if I can call it a pep talk. It was just one line. One name and it crushed me. I love my little squishy son. Also, I approve of Yakov being a little less dickish and accepting of her apology. But tomorrow is going to be a very beautiful mess. Just like today. And on that note, see you tomorrow! xx**


	33. Last Night in New York

That was a buzz I'd be feeling for a while. Between how fired up the crowd was and the fact that Celestino was already booking our flight to London, I never wanted to come down. Goddamn, I missed this feeling. The drug Victor got me hooked on. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't stick around for his performance. Celestino and I had press to attend to. This time, they didn't want to hear my opinion on Victor. After the performance I just had, why would they?

"So, Ms. Plisetsky," a reporter began. A short, chubby man that reminded me of a turtle, "What can we expect from you this season?"

"A healthy mix of highs and lows," I answered, putting a bit of seduction in my voice, "Of pain and pleasure. An emotional roller coaster and a sort of sexual awakening that will have you questioning your morals and make you act on pure, animalistic instinct."

"Is it purely based on sex?" another reporter chimed in. This one a little nicer to look at. This guy took very good care of himself.

"It's more or less a visual study in human sexuality," I explained, "It's not like I have a pole on the ice with me?"

"What kind of preparations have you made for this?" he went on, "Did your experience at Cosmos act as an influence?"

"Excuse me," Celestino stepped in, wanting that incident stricken from my record altogether, "Which magazine did you say you were with?"

"Skate Weekly." You're...shitting me. There is no way in God's green Earth that this guy is who I think he is.

"Are you, by any chance, Doyle Wallace?" I perked up.

"Yes, I am." That explains his persistence on the sexiness of my routine.

"I'd like to have a word with you later," I ordered, my blood already boiling, "No more questions.

I left the flashing cameras behind me. A strong cup of tea was sorely needed. My hot tub, too, ideally. But I made myself a promise. It won't break my heart to miss Victor's performance, but if Yuri and Yurio have to do it, I'll be damned if I miss that. Fortunately, there was a cart just outside the rink. I swear, I may have single-handedly put this man's kids through college. Besides, I was about to have Doyle Wallace from Skate Weekly Magazine in front of me. It sucked that he was so cute. Why did Doyle Wallace have to be cute? It's a sick, cosmic joke that I wasn't getting.

Regardless, I met him in the alley, thinking about all the things I wanted to say to him. This was it. He's right in front of me. And I am an emotional yo-yo right now. I could kick the ever-living shit out of him and have no remorse. Not like he wouldn't have it coming, though. A thorough beating would be better than a lawsuit for defamation of character, wouldn't it?

"Um..." Doyle Wallace broke the silence, "Ms. Plisetsky? Is there a reason why you asked to see me?"

The more I looked over this guy's face, the less I wanted to punch it. I don't understand. This was the guy who wanted to peg me as losing it and whoring myself out to anyone and possibly developing a drinking problem. I'd be lying if I said that I haven't been appreciating my booze lately. Could anyone blame me, though? We all have our vices. And this was the guy that wanted to spearhead the charge at my pride. Color me curious.

"You can call me Violet," I allowed, still not used to people not calling me Mrs. Nikiforov, "And could we talk totally off the record?"

"Sure," Doyle Wallace took his phone out and turned it off, "We're officially off the record. Does this mean I can ask you anything I want without any sort of repercussions?"

"Hold on," I peeked around the corner, "Hey, Gene?"

"Yes, Violet?" Gene's radar went up, "You need me?"

"I want to introduce you to someone," I brought him into the alley, "This is Doyle Wallace. Doyle Wallace, this is my bodyguard Gene."

"Nice to meet you, man," Gene played nice.

"You, too," Doyle Wallace was a tad confused. And a little nervous. Given Gene's size and position, I'm not surprised, "I'm guessing I can't ask you anything I want, can I?"

"No, you can't," I confirmed.

"Noted."

"Actually," I stopped him, "I brought you out here, so I could ask you a few questions. Is that ok with you?"

"Me?" he wasn't quite sure what to make of me, but he rolled with it, "Sure. Go ahead. Ask away."

"Why did you feel the need to completely shit on me?" No sense of dancing around the subject. Might as well be blunt. This is off the record, "When I came out of Cosmos, I was at a very low point in my life and for some ungodly reason, you felt the need to put it under a magnifying glass. Why?"

Doyle Wallace looked down at his feet, feeling around in his pockets. He pulled one lone cigarette from the inside of his jacket and a lighter from his pants, "I like you, Violet. I do. I've been a huge fan of yours for years. When you announced your comeback, I could hardly contain myself. I was sitting at my desk in the office watching the announcement and I had the biggest spazz fit. When the Cosmos incident happened, it broke me. I knew you were better than that, so I was going to run the story in a little less negative light. But my editor had other plans. Really and truly, from the bottom of my heart, I'm sorry, Violet. I have bills to pay, a mouth to feed, and a pug at home with heart problems."

I knew that look. The shame of the job that was an unfortunate mistress. I couldn't totally blame him. I remember how hard it is living in a town like this when I'm not living a professional ice skater's life. Hell, I had no room to judge. I've done some shady shit for a paycheck. The days of me dancing half naked onstage and fully naked in private if the price was right were long behind me, though. Doyle Wallace was still a dick in my book, but not nearly as big of a dick as I thought.

"What's his name?"

"Excuse me?" Doyle gave me a look.

"Your pug," I clarified, giving him a little smile, "What's his name?"

"Her name," he corrected me, "It's Bubble. She's a good girl and very lovey."

"I'm sure she is," I awed, "Do you have any pictures?"

What can I say? I'm a slut for a pug. Doyle took his phone back out and turned it on. Right on the lock screen was a roly-poly little pug that absolutely stole my heart, "There's my girl."

"She's adorable," I melted, taking my phone out, "I got a couple babies, too."

"Can I see them?" he asked, starting to relax some more.

"Of course," I showed him the big, ginger poodle first, "This is Makkachin."

"That's Victor's dog!" Dammit, Doyle Wallace. We were doing good. We didn't need to bring Victor into it.

"That's our dog," I corrected him, "I was there when we adopted him, too. Me, Victor, Chris, our boys. But then, there was a cat that sort of imprinted on Yurio, so we got Nadya, too."

I swiped one more picture over and showed him the ball of fluff and judgment that Nadya is, "She's a pretty kitty."

"She's a hundred percent sass, too," I assured, putting my phone back in my hoody pocket, "Look, Doyle Wallace of Skate Weekly Magazine..."

"Just Doyle will do," he chuckled under his breath.

"Doyle," I went on, "I get it. And if you can do something to not make me look like a trainwreck, that'd be really cool."

"Does this mean we're going into a partnership, Violet?" Doyle crossed his fingers.

"I wouldn't say that," I mulled it over, "But if you're looking for a full-disclosure interview, I'll give you one. After the season's over, though. I have to leave for London in the morning."

"So do I," he confessed, "My editor told me to stay on you as much as I could. He's been after me for a follow-up for ages now. It's going to be the two of us for as far as this competition goes."

Well...That was a bit unexpected. It's nice I'm finding out about this now. What is it with people keeping things from me? I don't know why I'd be surprised, though. He's press. Those events are always swarming with reporters and photographers and someone's bound to recognize me. Now that I've had my slight heart to heart with Doyle, though, I'm glad he'll be coming along. I don't want to stab him quite as much anymore.

The two of us parted amicably and I went home. Yuri and Yurio were already more than qualified to be in for the season, so I didn't get to see them skate. Although, I'm intrigued to see how Yurio's improved under Celestino's direction. God knows I've gotten better. Yurio, though...With the added fire in his belly of Yuri walking away with gold last year, I'm sure he's still Mama's little warrior.

I wanted to take a nap. With every fiber of my being, did I want to take a nap. I wanted to kick my feet up in my hot tub with a dirty book and a glass of wine, but I had a trip to pack for. It sucks that I wouldn't have a chance to go shopping beforehand, but luckily, in our last shopping trip, Victor scored big enough for me to not have to. Bless him. Wow...I've had him on the brain a lot today.

Either way, I still needed to pack for London. From London, depending on where I place (which, let's be honest. I'll be on the podium.), I'll be in Moscow or Brussels. Then, from Moscow or Brussels, I'll be doing the finals in Rome. I couldn't wait to get to Rome. I had enough skater dresses to get me through. And fleece lined leggings were always a good thing to have on hand. Now that things were starting to cool off, the cold snap of winter would soon be upon us. But with the way weather can be lately, I packed some lighter leggings and knee-high socks just in case.

Knock, knock.

Who the hell...? I had already sent Gene home for the day, so I didn't have anyone else to get the door for me. Nadya didn't have thumbs. When I unlocked it, my stomach dropped, "Hi, Victor."

"Hi, Violet," my ex-husband stood in the doorway, "Do you mind if I come in?"

Play it cool, Violet. You knew this was coming. I gave him a nod, "But I'm busy, sweetie. I have a flight to make in the morning. And I still have to pack."

Thank God Celestino thought to overnight my costumes. Putting those in a suitcase would've been a pain in my ass that I didn't want to deal with. Victor followed me back to my bedroom, making sure not to trip over Sassmaster McGee, "I do, too. Yakov was calling me every name in the book for springing things on him last minute, but he'll get over it. I just wanted to make sure there was no bad blood between us."

"There isn't," I didn't break my concentration. Skater dress, leggings, shoes. My underwear goes in the front pocket.

"Are you sure about that?" Victor poked where he had no business poking.

"I'm sure," I blocked him out, making a beeline for my closet, getting another handful of clothes. Don't you do it, you son of a bitch. Don't you dare.

"Violet," he stopped me, taking my clothes from me, "Put these down."

I let out a heavy sigh and threw myself on the bed, "What do you want, Victor?"

"Well," Victor thought, "Why don't we start with a drink?"

"Couldn't agree more," I approved.

"Do you still have any of that vodka I brought back for you?" he asked, heading out to the kitchen. Oh, shit...

"Would you be pissed if I said no?"

"I wouldn't say I'm surprised," Victor shrugged, "You do like your vodka."

"I do have a bottle of wine I haven't opened," I pointed out, walking out into my living room, "Why? You feel like drinking?"

"A better way to grease the wheels," he figured, "Vodka always got your lips moving."

"Mostly to sing really shitty eighties tunes off key," I giggled, "I'm going to turn on the hot tub. I hope you don't mind."

"Not at all," Victor got a couple of glasses down from the cabinet along with a bottle of Grey Goose I had hiding in the back, "I fell during my warm-up and my ass is killing me."

"Ow," I knew all too well the pain of a broken tailbone, "You didn't hurt yourself too bad, did you?"

"No," he shook his head, "What do you have for mixers?"

"Just about anything," I turned on the hot tub and went back into my bedroom for a dry swimsuit, "You know where the fridge is. Just don't touch the…"

"Apple juice!" Victor yelled, "I know how our son works! If there's no apple juice, Yurio would go on a killing spree."

"That's no shit either," I shivered. We made that mistake two years ago. Things weren't pretty.

Victor made us both a drink and joined me in the hot tub, "You're wound far too tight, dorogoy. Take this."

"Thank you," I slipped deeper into the water. This was nice. This is very nice. I deserved a beautiful Russian man bringing me vodka while I sit my ass in this hot tub.

"Violet," he moved to my side, "Can I ask you something? And you promise me you'll give me an honest answer?"

"Sure," I took a good, heavy drink, "Fire away."

"Are you pissed that I'm making a comeback?" Should've seen that coming.

"Victor…"

"No," he cut me off, "Are you really and truly pissed that I'm making a comeback?"

That son of a bitch cornered me. He figured he'd get me liquored up to get me to talk. I hate that vodka acts like a truth serum for me. Even more so, I hated that Victor was exploiting that knowledge. Damn Russians, man. I swear. Note to self: Don't get involved with another Russian man. They're bad news, Violet. You're learning your lesson now.

"If we're being honest," I sighed out, "Yeah. Kind of. I mean, when I plan on making a comeback and reporters are jumping me for information on you, give me someone that wouldn't be pissed about that. I know I sound like a selfish bitch, but you got your last season. You told me that you'd stay home with the boys and me and quit skating professionally. And coming back the same time I do was kind of a middle finger to me. You stole my thunder."

Victor's face fell as he took my hand under the water, "I'm sorry, Violet. You know that's not my intention. That's never my intention. You should know that. I don't have any control over the press. I'm sorry. I've been at this longer. They're going to keep coming back to me."

"I know," I bit my lip, "But…It's like watching my life flash before my eyes. Every time they ask me about you, I get a reminder that my career could be over in a second and no one will even care about me. When we got married, everyone turned on me. But at least they were still paying attention. The last time they even so much as glanced in my direction was when I was having a breakdown."

"So, show them a redemption," he suggested, "There's nothing the world loves more than a breakdown except for a comeback."

"It's funny you say that," a little smile crept across my face, "Because Chris told me the same thing. As he was saying it, I could almost hear it in your voice."

"You know, Violet," Victor pulled me into his arms, "I really do miss you and me hanging out all the time. I feel like I never see you anymore. Are we good?"

I laid my head in his shoulder, basking in his warmth, "Yeah. We're good."

"Good," he kissed the top of my head, "It's getting late. I should be going."

Just as Victor got out of my hot tub, I grabbed his hand, "No."

"No?" he gave me a look, "Violet, we have a flight to catch in the morning."

"I know," I dropped my gaze, "But…Please. Stay with me."

Victor picked my chin up and helped me out of the tub, "You know, you're so lucky my husband's so understanding."

 **A/N: Chris is pretty understanding of Victor and Violet's relationship. No matter how many ups and downs it has. So, they've gotten back together, so to speak. Violet's not as pissed at Victor anymore. She can stand to be in the same room with him now. Hell, they're cuddling tonight. Also, we've met Doyle Wallace! He's not a huge doucher like we all thought he was. He's actually not a half bad guy. Good for you, Doyle Wallace. And we're going to be seeing more of him when we get to London! Do we remember what happened the last time Victor and Violet and Chris were in London together? It was a time before Yuri and Yurio. That's all I'm going to say about it. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to bed. See you tomorrow! xx**


	34. Taking Flight

**A/N: Day four, friends. Day before the last day. You ready? Because I'm ready. I'm so down. Let's do this!**

Even before our marriage and our divorce, sleeping with Victor was the best. His arms were warm. His chest was solid. And as creepy as this is going to sound, the sleeping face of Victor Nikiforov was not meant to be seen by mortal man. It's like the Arc of the Covenant. It's enough to turn anyone to stone. It's absolutely beautiful. Not that it isn't when he's awake. But when he's sleeping, it's so pure. I've only seen it a few times before myself. Victor always woke up before me. And on this fine morning, I'd keep my eyes shut just a little longer.

I was dreading the thought of this flight. One would think that, given my profession, I'd have no problem flying. Just because I do it regularly doesn't mean I have to like it. It's not my most favorite thing. A necessary evil. I could make it through Celestino's pageant mom coaching. I could make it through anything. But all I wanted was a little more sleep with him. Just a little more.

I felt the body underneath me move a bit. Then, the arms came up around me, "Good morning, Chris."

Awesome. Way to kill the moment. Nothing like waking up to being called another man's name, "Try again, Victor. Chris is broader than me."

"I'm sorry, Violet," Victor let out a little yawn, "It's a habit."

"Regardless," I kissed his cheek, "Good morning."

"So," I felt his smile in his embrace, "We leave for London today."

"Yes, we do," I nuzzled my face in his chest.

"Do you have your tickets?" Victor asked, pushing my hair out of my face.

"Celestino took care of it," I rubbed my eyes, "My flight was already book before I left the rink yesterday."

"That's awfully confident of you," he teased.

"Says the guy that skated his first qualifier in years yesterday," I gave him a nudge.

"I saw your routine yesterday," Victor praised, "Your Lady Marmalade has come a long way from Coney Island."

"Thank you."

"And what about your packing?" And here's worried mom Victor, "Do you have your packing done?"

"Almost."

"What about getting out of bed?" he wondered, "Where do you stand on that?"

"No, thank you," I shut my eyes, "I'll have to take a hard pass on that. Screw getting out of bed. We're ice skating royalty. They can wait for us."

"Violet!" a thick, Italian accent called from my door. Son of a bitch, "Wake up, bambina. We have a flight leaving in a couple hours."

"I am up," I groaned, hitting my forehead on Victor's chest. Did I have to? Couldn't we wait until tomorrow to leave?

"Good," Celestino walked into my bedroom and got caught off guard, "Oh...Hi, Victor."

"Morning," Victor greeted him, pushing himself up, "Now, I really should be going. I hate making Chris take care of the boys on his own."

"You had no problem doing the same thing to me." Damn. My call out reflex was strong this morning.

"That's because," he gave me one last kiss, "I knew you could handle it without oven mitts."

"Ok," I let him go, "Do you want some help?"

"I got it," Victor threw his shirt on, "You have to finish packing anyway. I will see you in London."

"Bye." I hate to see him go, but hot damn, do I love to watch him leave."

"So?" Celestino gave me a look while I pulled myself out of bed, "Care to explain what I just walked in on, Violet?"

"Victor and me laying in bed," I went into my bathroom, giving great consideration to my bathtub, but I didn't have that kind of time. A shower, it is.

"I see that," he stood outside the door, "But I thought you two were at odds. Now, you're all cuddled up together."

"We patched things up last night. I think we're good."

"That's good to hear," Celestino approved, "Don't think you won't be watched like a hawk while we're in London either."

"What the hell, Coach?" I came out of the bathroom in a black, silk robe, "Where did the gun in a knife fight come from?"

"Fool me once, Violet," he put his foot down, "With your recent regression over this past year and everything that happened last time you were in London, I won't be letting you out of my sight for long."

"Am I really getting a babysitter?" I rolled my eyes, looking for a t-shirt and a pair of leggings to wear on the plane, "Come on, Celestino. I think I'll be ok."

"No," Celestino wasn't budging, "And some of your friends are bad influences on you."

"Thanks, Dad," I groaned. Swear to God...

"Hey now," he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, "Papa just wants what's best for his baby. Is that so wrong of me?"

"No," I held back a smile, reveling in my coach's loving embrace. That's the thing. No matter how bad things get. No matter how big of a bitch I become. There's one thing I could always be sure of. Celestino always had my back and he always had my best interests at heart.

"That's right," Celestino kissed the top of my head, almost the same way Victor did before he left.

Ring, ring.

Speak of the devil? I pulled my charger out of the bottom of my phone. Huh...Not Victor, "Hi, Chris. What's up?"

"Are you busy?" he asked. By the sound of it, he's in pain.

"Are you ok?" my mothering instincts kicked in, "What's going on?"

"Yurio bites," Chris reported, "Yuri's an absolute, inconsolable mess. Victor's tried. I've tried. Help. Please?"

"On my way," I finished getting dressed and threw my phone on the bed.

"Is everything ok?" Celestino's radar went up.

"My boys need me," I told him, "All of them, by the sounds of it. I'll be back."

I left my coach in my condo and made a beeline for my boys. The elevator took an eternity. And I had to stop with the anxious alliteration. Dammit! When I opened Chris and Victor's door, Makkachin ran up to me. It's a good thing we got Gene, huh, buddy? He agreed to stay behind and take care of you and Nadya. Alright, baby. Where's Daddy?

"Violet, I've never been so happy to see you." There he is.

"Where's Yuri?" I knew Yurio would be a piece of cake. He always responded better to me than he did Chris and Victor. Even before the divorce. That's just the way things have been. Yuri, on the other hand, may prove to be a challenge.

"In his room," Victor directed me, "Good luck. He's not good."

"That seems to be the rumor," I walked down the hall where Yuri and Yurio's bedrooms were and took gentle steps into my oldest's room, speaking softly, "Yuri...?"

"Mama?" Yuri's voice sounded so strained. It broke my heart. How long had he been like this before Chris or Victor realized it?

"Hey, baby," I sat at the edge of his bed, "How you doing?"

"I..." he crawled into my lap, "I qualified already."

"That's great," I hugged him a little tighter, "I'm proud of you."

"But I don't want to go so far," Yuri shook, "I don't want to get too high."

"Why not?"

"I won last year, Mama," his voice broke. No, no...Don't you start crying on me, Yuri, "What if I don't win this year? What if I screw up in front of all those people?"

"So, you'll try harder next year," I pointed out, "You'll do fine, Yuri. If you take home gold this year at any event, I'll be proud of you. I know Daddy will, too."

"But if I don't," Yuri went on, "I would've just wasted the last eight months of his time. He could've been using that time to work on his own program, but he still coached me, too. He pushed himself so hard this past week. What if he would've hurt himself?"

"Yuri," I settled him, "It's ok. You'll do fine. Even if you don't win this year, you know Daddy would do this past year with you all over again with no remorse. And do you know why?"

"Why?"

"Because he loves you," I assured, "And we all know you can crush on the ice, sweetheart. There's no doubt about that."

"You think so?" Yuri started to come down. Good…

"I know so," I snuggled him a bit tighter, "Now, are you ok enough for me to leave you alone for a bit? I still have to take care of your brother."

"Yeah," he nodded, "I think so."

"Good," I put Yuri down on his bed and treaded the rocky waters across the hall, "Alright, dovahkiin. Get up."

"I don't want to," Yurio murmured into his pillow, "Try again later."

"You can sleep on the plane, baby," I told him, "We have to get going."

"No, thank you."

"Yuri," I didn't have time for this, "I will give you fifty pounds when we land if you get up right now."

"Why would I want fifty pounds?" Yurio glared at me, "Why would I mess up my balance like that?"

"No, Yuri…" I let out a heavy sigh. Sometimes, it's a good thing this kid is cute, "Fifty British pounds. I will pay you to get up right now."

"How much is that American?"

"A little over sixty-three dollars."

"And in rubles?"

"Four thousand-ish."

"Deal," Yurio didn't hesitate. He jumped up out of bed. Did I feel bad for bribing my child to get out of bed? Kind of, but we're on a time crunch here, "Are you coming with us, Mama?"

"Sure am," I assured, gladly accepting the attack hug on my leg.

"Yay!" he ran into his bathroom and I walked out of his bedroom with a triumphant grin on my face.

"Did you manage to take care of both of them?" Victor questioned my methods.

"Yuri's coming down," I nodded, "Yurio's in the bathroom."

"That's amazing, Violet," Chris applauded, "You really have a talent."

"No talent," I shook my head, "I just know how my boys tick."

"I still think it's witchcraft," Victor jabbed.

"No." They didn't know I paid Yurio off.

"WITCHCRAFT!" My best friend was a dork, but what can I say? He's my dork. Just as it was coming down to the wire, I really had to put the Mama hat on.

"Come on, boys!" I called for them, "We got a flight to make. It's not going to wait on us."

"Coming!" Yuri came running with his bag in hand.

"How you feeling, Yuri?" Victor asked, checking him over.

"A lot better," he laid his head on Victor's hip.

"Alright," Yurio came out with his bag over his shoulder, "We can go."

Who am I to argue with him? I never need to. Yurio's got a pretty good head on his shoulders. I've raised him well. Still, we really did need to get going. One Xanax, one vodka lemonade. I'd be good for an entire flight. God, I couldn't wait to get back to London. It's been so long. Once I got to my hotel room, I had the strangest feeling of home. Like a home I never had.

Well, England, it's good to be back.

 **A/N: I'm sorry this chapter is so short. It's been a long day, friends. On the plus side, my poor little Yuri has come out of the other side of a mild panic there. I'm proud of him. I love him. I want him protected. I want to tell my neighbors about him. Yuri Katsuki is a very special boy and he's my world. Also, it's not good parenting to bribe your children with money. Don't do it. It's not cool. Well, it was cool hanging out with you today, friends. I'll see you tomorrow! xx**


	35. London's Calling

**A/N: I'm so sorry this is up so late. It's been a long day for me. Also, welcome to day five…**

I may hate flying, but I could handle jetlag like a champ. My poor internal clock could never adjust to one time zone for very long. Which means, when Violet makes a flight from JFK to Heathrow, riding the high of vodka and Xanax, she can pick up at any time and go about her day. But I'd have to let the Xanax wear off first. I will say this, though. Xanax naps were a delight. Dreams in bright colors and everything made me feel warm. Yummy...

When I woke up from my drugged-out state of bliss, I noted that I was in my room completely by myself. Awesome. Because it's almost ten o'clock local time. I didn't have anything going on professionally until later today. Competition didn't start until three. Although, I did make an appointment while we were waiting for our flight to board. I'm sure everyone is still sleeping. Perfect. I'm in the clear.

I got out of bed and slipped out of my room. I wonder how many other skaters are here already. There's no way we were the first ones here. That never happened. In our tenure together, Victor and I were never the first ones. We always made an entrance. At one time, we really were considered royalty. The two of us were untouchable. I missed those days...

"I swear to God," a familiar voice stopped me dead in my tracks...and maybe sent chills up my spine, "It's like you're nineteen again, Violet. What did I tell you?"

Oh, shit. It looks like I've been caught, "Hey, Coach..."

"Where do you think you're sneaking off to?" Celestino wondered, following me to the elevator. He really wasn't joking when he said he'd be on my ass as much as possible.

"I have an appointment to get to," I hit the down button, "Since my hair's almost completely faded and it's damn near the same color as Victor's, I thought I'd get it done before competition started. Normally, it'd be my coach suggesting such things, but it seems I had to take matters into my own hands."

"Alright, alright," he hushed me, "Nobody likes the sass. Go ahead. Just...Be careful. And no purple again. It'll clash too much with your costumes."

"Fine." Aww...That sucks. I had all intentions of it going back to a bright shade of purple. I guess I could still do that. Celestino would hand my ass to me, but now wasn't the time to push his buttons. Maybe I should do something a little drastic.

When I got to the salon, I had something in mind. If I was going to be a personification of lust, I needed to ooze sex. In my own, special way, I was killing the idea of who I used to be as a skater. Pure, innocent, Victor's partner. What would be more appropriate than a color typically associated with a funeral?

I always thought it'd be a cute color on me. A girl could never go wrong with black. Celestino told me not to go purple, so I didn't. I should probably get to practice and start hyping up the crowd. This was some prime judge teasing time. And a little extra practice wouldn't kill me. Now that I'm kind of unrecognizable, I wonder how far I could go with a new identity. It's always fun to screw with people. I walked into the rink with my mint skates over my shoulder. There he is.

"Excuse me," I put on a heavy English accent. Usually, Russian is my go-to, but when in Rome. Or in this case, London, "I'm looking for an attractive Italian man with loose morals and an appreciation for a good red wine."

"Well," the man fitting my description turned on his Italian charms, "It's a pleasure to meet you, my dear. Celestino Cialdini. I'm one of the coaches around here. My, my. They do grow them beautiful around here."

"It's nice to meet you, too, Mr. Cialdini." That felt weird coming out of my mouth.

"If you don't mind me saying so," Celestino flirted, bringing my hand to his lips, "You have very pretty skin. You take good care of it."

"I don't," I blushed, "My ex-husband does. He's kind of a pain in my ass about that sort of thing."

"Aww," he pulled me a little closer, "What happened? Things just didn't work?"

"He's gay," I pointed out, "He got remarried in January."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Celestino looked me over a bit closer, still not making the connection. Come on, Coach. It's a good thing you're pretty, "How rude of me. I don't think I caught your name, principessa. Is it as beautiful as you are?"

"Oh, stop," I gave him a little swat to the chest, "It's Violet. Plisetsky. Your skater, Celestino. You sinner."

"That wasn't nice, Violet," Celestino came to his senses, "Here I thought I was going to meet a nice English woman to bring home to Mama, only to find out it's you."

"Ouch," I clutched my chest, dropping the accent, "That's cold, Celestino. Imagine what Mama would say about that. I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see me again when we're in Rome."

"I have no doubt," he agreed, playing with the result of my appointment, "This isn't a bad color on you, Violet."

"Thanks, Coach," I did a little spin. I felt so much better. It's amazing what a quick dye job will do.

"So?" Celestino asked, "What are we doing for your first international competition back?"

"As much as I'd love to do Lady Marmalade," I thought it over, "I kind of want to do S&M. But I can't do S&M. The boys are watching. They don't have any competitions until tomorrow."

"In that case," he suggested, "What about doing something you did the other day off the top of your head?"

My heart stopped, "Are you saying I do Cell Block?"

"I don't see why not," Celestino allowed, "That would mean getting you pissed off again. What had you so upset the other day?"

"I don't want to talk about it." And I'm back in that mindset.

"Fine by me," he let it go, "Don't skate too well in practice. Be sure to pace yourself. You don't want to peak here."

"I know," I rolled my eyes, "I've done this a time or two before. I think I know what I'm doing. I skate like shit in practice, so no one has high hopes for me. Then, I get on the ice during the performance, kick ass, take names, and go out for ice cream after I get my medal."

"That's my girl," Celestino kissed my forehead, "Make me proud, bambina."

"When don't I?"

"When you're stumbling out of night clubs and showing up to practice hungover."

"Below the belt, Celestino. Below the belt."

My coach's subtle drag aside, I put my skates on and started lazily gliding around the rink with my headphones in. Once in a while, I'd glance over at Celestino. People were slowly trickling his way, asking who his new skater was. Nothing new about me. Celestino and I have been working together for years. We were pretty close. Even after I went off the grid for a while, I'd still call Celestino every now and then, just to say hi. Or ask him how to coach my son.

But his response would always be the same. That's Violet Plisetsky. She's the best skater I've ever had the privilege of working with. She's made great strides this past year to get back to where she was the last time she stepped on the ice. When, in all honesty, I still skated while I was living in Russia. Only when the rink was empty and it was two o'clock in the morning and I couldn't sleep. So, around once or twice a week. I couldn't give this up forever. There's no way.

Then, it came down to it. It was time for me to put my hooker boot skates on and my Lady Marmalade costume unfurled. I was going to have to pick one of the six merry murderesses of the Cook County jail to portray. And honestly, I think that one goes without saying. It wouldn't exactly be difficult for me to choose. I had to go with Velma Kelly.

Once my name was called (I had the last slot. Pray for me.), I skated out to the middle of the rink. Not much of a response. Things seemed scarily quiet. Did they just not care about me anymore? I don't think so. I thought I had caused enough buzz in the off season for them to at least throw me a little bit of a bone. Come on, crowd. Warm up a little. I'm not the hot mess I once was. I've gotten better. Nevertheless, I had a routine to skate. Some may ask why I'd decide to go with Velma Kelly. Of all the killings I could've picked, I pick her. Well, I thought it'd go without saying, but as a breakdown...

My best friend Victor and I once had this double act. And his future husband Christophe traveled around with us. In one of our old routines, we'd do a million tricks in a row. Really pulling out all the stops. Splits, spins, axels, lutz, loops. And we'd do them one right after the other. So, one night, I was coming home. And some reporter asked me what I thought about Victor's comeback. Comeback? No. Not my Victor. He's not making a comeback.

I go down to his rink of operations. And when I do, I open the door. And there's Yuri and Victor doing one of our old routines. Sinatra! Well...I was in such a state of shock. I almost blacked out. But when I was standing there, I could have taken the guards off my blades and slit his throat right then and there. And it wasn't until later when I was sitting in my hot tub that I thought my career would be dead...

AND HE'D HAVE IT COMING!

I fell to the ice after a good, fast corkscrew spin, ready to punch someone. Settle down, Violet. Don't let the crowd see you sweat. Honestly, it'd be nice to hear something from them. Anything...But then, out of absolute nowhere, the crowd went apeshit, damn near shaking the rink to its foundation. Damn, that felt good! Looks like I'm not dead yet. My shower of flowers was totally deserved. The only suck part is that I may have dug myself into a hole. Since I crushed so hard here, they're going to expect me to do something like that every time for the next three competitions. I didn't care. I could handle it. For now, I was going to suck up every last ounce of love these people had to give me. Now, Mr. Announcer Man, what's my final score?

89.88. Respectable. Even better, I don't remember hearing one higher than that. And this is right out of the gate? Hell yeah! You're kicking ass this season, Violet. And you know it.

"Violet!" Victor stood on the other side of the barricade, throwing his arms around me. To no surprise, a camera managed to capture the moment, "You did so good! I'm so proud of you!"

"Thanks, Victor," I wiggled my way out of his embrace. I felt like I was still coming out of the Xanax induced haze. As much as I loved him, I didn't need to be lumped in with Victor right now. Not when my season's just starting. Didn't he have a competition to skate, too?

My feet were throbbing, my hips wanted to fall off, and I needed the hot tub in my hotel room. It's times like these where I missed skating in Japan. At least there I could have a hot spring to myself. That sounded nice right now. But I couldn't do that quite yet. Because I had to wait to hear my name called out for the last time today. Aside from the media storm that'd be waiting for me outside the rink.

"In first place," the announcer barked, snapping me out of my headspace, "With a score of 89.88, Violet Plisetsky!"

HELL YEAH! That's me! I don't know why I should be surprised. I worked my ass off this past year, falling into some places I shouldn't, but I crawled my way out again, didn't I? I bowed my head as the commissioner put my medal around my neck. Don't start crying, Violet. Don't you dare start crying on me. We can hold ourselves together. Cry in the hotel room. Keep it together on the podium.

When I went back to my hotel room, all I wanted was the bathtub, some takeout, and a glass of wine. Although, I couldn't have that last one. Celestino took my minibar key. Dick. Oh well. I can live without that for the night. I'll just grab a bottle tomorrow. Instead, I took a bottle of water from the fridge and kicked my feet up on the bed. I forgot how good gold tasted. It tastes like satisfaction.

Knock, knock.

Don't be press. That's all I ask. Please don't be press. Unless it's Doyle Wallace. I may not be the guy's best friend, but he was alright. In small doses. And I did promise him an interview. Not Doyle Wallace, "Hi, Victor."

"Hey," Victor threw his arms around me, "Congratulations, winner. We're about to go out and celebrate. Care to join us?"

"No, thanks," I shook my head, "I appreciate the invite, but I think I'm going to call it a night."

"Suit yourself," he kissed my forehead, "Are you sure you don't want to come out?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," Victor gave me a look. He knew my desire to go out was like a dog with food. So, why isn't this bitch eating? "You're still going to watch the boys skate in the morning, right?"

"Of course," I smiled, "I wouldn't miss that for the world."

"I won't have them out all night," he promised, "Go back to your bathtub."

"My pleasure," I waved him off and did exactly as he told me to. I did want to go out, but like I said, I need to distance myself from Victor for a while. Just for the season. I shut my eyes for a minute and sunk into the water. Life was good. This is exactly how a gold medalist should feel after a good performance.

Knock, knock.

What the hell? I looked over at the clock. It's almost eleven. Who would be at my door at this time of night? I checked the peephole, just in case it was some weirdo. Luckily, no weirdos, "Yurio? What are you doing here? It's late, baby."

"I couldn't sleep," Yurio came in, "Can I stay here with you?"

"Of course, sweetheart," I would never turn him away, "Come on. Let's go to bed. Does Victor and Uncle Chris know you're here?"

"They're sleeping." Ugh…I grabbed my phone off the nightstand and shot Victor a text. The last thing he needed was to wake up and find Yurio missing.

"Hold on," I thought, "Yuri, are you jetlagged?"

"I don't know," he shrugged, "Probably."

I shouldn't be surprised. I dug in my bag and threw on a pair of sweatpants, "Come on."

"Where are we going?" Yurio gave me a look.

"I'm jetlagged, too," I threw my bag around my shoulder, "There's got to be somewhere around here that's open. Let's go play."

 **A/N: Poor Yurio. It sucks not being able to sleep. I can't imagine what it must be like for him and Yuri. Well, friends. It's going to be a while before we get another chapter. Right now, I'm just glad I got this one done. And that Violet's taking home at least one gold medal. What can I say? I'm proud of her. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm exhausted and I think I'm going to go to bed. Good night. See you next chapter. xx**


	36. Midnight Tea

**A/N: Hi, friends! It's been a week since we last seen each other. Do we really need to do a recap? I mean, I'm sure you've read other stuff since then. And if you were following everything I post and were stuck on the Supernatural fic for a while…Screw it. Let's do a recap.**

 **So, Violet's in London. She's kicking ass, taking names. Yuri and Yurio's competition is in the morning. But where we left off, Yurio's having a little trouble sleeping, so he goes to Mama's room to see if she can remedy that. Little does Yurio know, Mama's having some trouble sleeping, too. Jetlag's a bitch, no matter how well Violet can handle herself on it. So, they're taking a little walk. God knows where they're going to end up. Oh, wait. I know. How about you find out, too?**

The last time I walked the streets of London this late at night, I was drunk and using Chris and Victor as unstable crutches. Past me would never have guessed I'd be doing it ten years alter with one of my sons fighting jetlag. It's weird. Have I really settled down that much? Violet, you just danced to Lady Marmalade in front of thousands of people using your former BDSM relationship as inspiration. You are far from settling down while you go through this renaissance. And so, Yurio and I took a walk through London town, fighting off our jetlag.

Yurio had competition in the morning, so I couldn't have him out too late. He'll still need to get some sleep. Unfortunately, Yurio was still too young to go to the pubs, so a nightcap was out of the question. However, I remember hearing about a tearoom that was open late. That sounded like a damn good idea. Besides, Yurio's kind of a lightweight when it comes to his tea. When he gets a couple cups of chamomile in him, he's out like a light. No matter what time of day. It's his Ambien.

"Mama," Yurio took my hand, "Where are we going?"

"You'll see," I led him down the stairs. This tearoom was in an old subway station that cave the local music scene a really cool sound. It echoed through the tunnels and came out through the grates. It's neat as hell.

When we walked in, there were a few people in here, but not too many. Damn, this place is nice. Dimly lit, no drunk idiots. The stage was just getting set up. I wonder which one of them is playing. None of that mattered right now. Because Yurio's face was a shining beacon. I've only seen this kid so happy once and that's when he found out I was using Plisetsky for his name instead of Nikiforov. He's out at one o'clock in the morning with his Mama in a cool, underground place in the heart of London with Victor and press nowhere in sight. I can't blame him.

"I like this place," Yurio found us a booth and made himself at home, "Can we come here every time we're in London?"

"Absolutely," I approved, loving the atmosphere in here. It's so cozy.

"Hello," a cute waiter came up to our table, Yurio catching his eye, "Isn't it past your bedtime?"

"Chto ty tol'ko chto skazal mne?!" Yurio snapped. Oh, shit…He is sleep deprived.

"Yuratcha," I settled him, "Prinesti izvineniya…"

"Prosti…" Yurio pouted.

"I'm sorry," he gave him a look, "Do you speak English?"

"Yeah," I nodded, "Sorry. My son's really jetlagged and he's a bit cranky."

"Oh," he stepped back, "American?"

"Russian."

"No, no," he corrected me, "You. You're American?"

"Yep," I confirmed, "Why does that surprise you?"

"You just spoke fluent Russian."

"I know Russian," I shrugged, "So? Conosco anche l'italiano. What about it?"

"I'm sorry," he shook it off, "What can I get you?"

"Two cups of chamomile," I ordered. Yurio's going to have to get some sleep. Sure, it's a little underhanded, but he had to get some sleep and this was all I could do for him aside from melatonin.

"Would you like the pot?"

"Sure," I felt Yurio nuzzle into my side. Is he already tired? Was the mere mention of chamomile enough to get him sleepy?

"Wonderful," he shot me a smile, warming my heart, "I'll be back in a bit. You caught me at the end of my shift and I got my second job in a few minutes, so I shouldn't be long."

"Thank you," I draped my arm around my little one in my hip, "You getting tired, baby?"

"No," Yurio shook his head, "Trying. I'm trying, Mama. Why can't I sleep?"

"Because you're used to a different time zone," I pulled his hair out of his face. This has to be hard on him and his brother. They knew what they were getting into from last year, but then, they had eight months to get used to another time zone from the other side of the world. Only for them to leave for competition and get their sleep schedules screwed up again. My poor babies.

"Will it get easier?"

"Soon enough," I assured, "You'll be alright, though. It's only a few months, Yuri. Then, we can go back home and start the whole process over again."

"I like skating," Yurio told me, "I like competing. Why can't we do it in one spot? Why do we have to go all over the place?"

"Think about it," I pointed out, "We get to travel the world for what we do. We get to see places that most people would only dream of. It's not so bad once you get used to it."

"I hope so," he let out a heavy sigh, "Because all this traveling sucks."

"It's only a few months," I reiterated, "You'll be alright."

"Here we are," our waiter came back with a pot of hot water and two cups for us, "I'm sorry. I'd like to stick around and have a chat, but I'm on, so if I don't see you again, I'm William."

"Violet," I introduced myself, "Thank you."

"No problem," William winked, "And no hard feelings, little man?"

"Ukusi menya…" Yurio grumbled under his breath.

"Yuri…" I scolded him, knowing damn well what he just said.

"No," he clarified, "No hard feelings."

"Have a good night," William left the two of us alone and I poured a cup of tea for Yurio. I loved him to death, but his pouring skills weren't exactly top notch. Something tells me our coach wouldn't be too happy if I brought him back with burns on his hands. Dealing with Celestino pissed off was not a pleasant experience.

Then, a soft acoustic guitar started playing on the stage. The gentle, beautiful notes reminded me of a Studio Ghibli movie. It brought me back to a simpler time. Victor took Yurio out for the afternoon and a heavy rain kicked up. Yuri and thunderstorms didn't really work well together, so I needed something to calm him down. I put on Spirited Away and he fell asleep in my arms. I missed days like that.

In fact, this _was_ from a Studio Ghibli movie! This was Town with an Ocean View from Kiki's Delivery Service! I looked up at the stage and realized who was playing. Wasn't he just bringing me tea not five minutes ago? Damn, this guy wasn't bad. William. I like him. I wonder if he's open for commission. Because I wouldn't mind him playing something sexy for my special program. I don't see why not. If the Canadian pain in the ass can recruit a famous rock band to write a song about him (eye roll), I'm sure I could ask William nicely.

When he finished his set (and with Promise of the World from Howl's Moving Castle, no less), Yurio started to nod off. The kid's really holding his own with his tea tonight. What can I say? I'm proud of him. William came back and joined us at our table, "Well?"

"That was amazing," I applauded, "How often do you do that?"

"Once or twice a week," he leaned his guitar against our table, "What about you? What brings you to London? Business or pleasure?"

"My business is a pleasure," I explained, "I'm a professional figure skater. My son is, too."

"Wow," William gasped, "So young and already pro?"

"That's not exactly uncommon," I took a sip from my teacup, "He's only nine, but he's been in the Junior Grand Prix and took second."

"Overall?" he praised, "That's impressive. You must be proud."

"Very," I looked down to find my baby in his own little world. He's on his way out. I could tell.

"So," William asked, "How long are you in town?"

"Until tomorrow morning," I told him, "Then, we have to get on a plane to his motherland, depending on where he places, but chances are, we'll be on a flight to Moscow tomorrow morning."

"Mama," Yurio curled into my hip, "Mozhem my poyti?"

"Cherez minutu, ok?" I cradled him.

"Ok…"

"What did he say?" William wondered, "We don't all speak Russian."

"He's getting tired and ready to go home," I sat him in my lap and wrapped my arms around him.

"This is just curiosity getting the better of me," he prefaced, "But does he speak English?"

"Yeah," I cuddled my sleepy baby, "He's just playing shy. Yurio doesn't do people very well. He's got a thing about his anger."

"Ok," William let it go, "In that case, I shouldn't keep you. Go on. Tuck the little one in."

"I think I will," I finished my tea, "It was nice meeting you, William."

"You, too, Violet," he smiled, "Maybe I could come watch you skate tomorrow."

"My competition was yesterday," I broke the news, "You could find it on YouTube, though."

"In that case," William picked himself up, "Maybe I could watch Yurio skate tomorrow."

"His competition's at two," I bit my bottom lip, "I'll be there. And you'll be able to meet his brother and his dad, too. They're delightful."

"His dad…?" he gave me a look.

"Adoptive dad," Yurio groaned in my shirt, "And he's not even that, if you ask me."

"So," William thought, "You're married?"

"Not anymore," I clarified.

"Oh," the light returned to his eyes. His big, beautiful brown eyes, "I guess I'll see you at two then?"

"If you come and watch," I scooped Yurio up and sat him on my hip, "Night."

"Good night."

I carried Yurio all the way back to our hotel with the sun starting to rise behind me. Shit, how long were we out? Celestino's going to kill me. Regardless, I brought Yurio back into my room and laid him down on my bed. We've had a bit of a night and he was already drooling on my shoulder in the elevator. Although, when I got into bed next to him, he woke up a little to cuddle into me.

"Hey, Mama…"

"Yeah, baby?"

"What'd you think about the guy at the café?" he wondered, "William, wasn't it?"

"What about him?" I wasn't sure where he was going with this.

"What'd you think?"

I ran over my mental checklist, "He was sweet, but chances are, it's not happening. Now, get some sleep."

"Ok," Yurio let out a big yawn and laid his head on my stomach, "As long as you're happy, that's all that matters."

As much as that melted me inside, it wasn't Yurio's job to worry about me, "Is Victor leaving Dr. Phil on when we're back home?"

"No. Uncle Chris is. Why?"

"No reason." Christophe, I love you, but get better taste in shitty daytime TV. I kissed the top of my baby's head, "Good night, sweetheart."

"Good night, Mama," Yurio shut his eyes, "I love you."

"I love you, too," I followed suit. This was a good night, wasn't it? I haven't spent time with just Yurio in ages. Not like this anyway. There were our secret practices, but those were work. This was just us screwing around because he couldn't sleep. Chamomile, man. Works every time.

And then, the alarm decides to go off…Awesome.

 **A/N: That sucks. I know what that's like. There was this one time I was leaving for Nashville, Tennessee at six o'clock in the morning. I had been up until three or four overanalyzing every thought I ever had and nursing through a panic attack. I shut my eyes for maybe half an hour once I was all settled down. My phone starts going off and it's my goddamn alarm. I cried. But I slept four hours on the way to Nashville, so I wasn't too bitchy. But! Yay! A cozy night out with my baby and his mama and everything's fantastic. Except for the fact that Yurio's going to be a bundle of crank. Will that affect his performance? Is anyone going to notice? Is my ginger and lemon tea absolutely phenomenal? Yes. Yes, it is. See you next chapter! xx**


	37. Lattes and Bubblegum

Why, God? Why would you do something so cruel? Why would you plague my baby with wicked jetlag only to wake him just as he falls asleep? And on a day he has to compete? Not cool, man. Not cool. As much as it's going to kill me, I nudged the sleepy little tiger in my arms. I'm so sorry, Yurio. I wish it was different, but an unfortunate nature of the beast.

"Yuri," I spoke softly, "Wake up, baby."

"But I just went to sleep," Yurio snarled between his teeth. Oh, boy...

"I know, sweetheart," I empathized, "I totally feel your pain, but you have a competition to get to."

"I forfeit," he rolled over, "Let Piggy win again. Good night."

"No," I jostled him some more, "Come on, Yuri. I'm not letting you give up that easily. We still have to skate your special program. You still want to skate with me on a grand stage, don't you, dovahkiin?"

"Well, yeah..." I didn't like putting Yurio between a rock and a hard place like this. Playing low and dirty wasn't really my style, but as of now, it's a necessary evil, "But...Mama, I'm so tired."

"You can sleep before competition," I suggested, "If you situate your warmup bag just right on a bench in the locker room, it's rather comfortable."

"Is it really?" Yurio started coming around.

"I've been doing it for years," I swore, "It works like a charm."

"So," he sat up against the headboard, "I can still sleep through the competition except for when I have to skate?"

"Exactly."

Yurio thought it over for a minute or two, finally coming to a decision, "Fine. I guess I can make that work, too."

"Good," I kissed the top of his head, "Go on. Go get dressed."

"Ok," He slid down from the edge of the bed, making his first few crooked steps toward the bathroom. Oh, boy...And he has to skate today. Yikes.

Pound, pound!

"Violet!" a frantic voice called out from the other side of the door, "Aprire! Adesso!"

"I'm coming!" I sprinted to the door to find Celestino in a full-scale panic, "Morning, Coach. What's up?"

"You may want to sit down," Celestino began, "But I can't find Yurio. Have you seen him?"

"Yeah," I settled him, "Relax, Celestino. Yurio crashed with me last night. His jetlag wasn't doing him any favors, so he asked for my advice."

"Tell me you didn't say Ambien and a shot of whiskey."

"No!" I squeaked, "Maybe me in the old days, but never Yurio! Jesus, Celestino, give me a little credit! I'm not that stupid."

"If he stayed here then," Celestino wondered, "Where is he?"

"Bathroom."

"Yurio, hurry up!" he barked out, "We have to go and we have to go now! If we have any hopes of winning gold here, we need to get in some last-minute practice!"

"I'M COMING!" Yurio screeched, full on pissed. I remembered the feeling all too well. Celestino getting a little overly excited when I'm just waking up. It's hell. And with Yurio's current situation mixed with his natural angry personality, this won't end pretty.

"Yikes," Celestino rightfully cringed, "What bug crawled up his ass?"

"He's a little sleep deprived," I filled him in, "Please. Play nice."

"Let's go," Yurio angrily threw his bag over his shoulder, ready to collapse. Yeah. It's not going to take much to set him off today.

"Yurio!" Celestino mumbled curses under his breath in Italian, "What did I tell you? The most important thing you can do during competition is getting a good night's sleep!"

"I TRIED!" Yurio snapped. I'm pretty sure the whole floor could hear him.

"Yuri," I settled him, putting some distance between Yurio and Celestino, "Come on, baby. Tell you what. Why don't we go down to the rink and get some practice in, the two of us? Then, we can get you ready for competition, ok?"

"Ok," he pouted, in serious need of more sleep, "I'll be waiting outside."

"Alright," I sat back with a triumphant grin on my face while Celestino stared in awe.

"How?" he asked flatly, "How do you do that?"

"Victor says it's witchcraft," I giggled deliriously, "I just know how to work him. Once you figure that out, you're golden."

"Victor may be onto something," Celestino teased.

"Hey," I groaned, "Did you happen to bring any coffee with you, by chance?"

"I didn't," he winced, "I'm sorry, bambina. I didn't know you'd want some."

"Don't worry about it," I brushed him off, throwing my shoes on. As I was making my way out, I stopped in front of my grumbly grump son sitting on the floor outside the door, "Hey, I'm making a coffee run. You want anything?"

"Yes, please," Yurio nodded, almost asleep again. My poor baby.

"Ok," I kissed his little cheek, "I'll meet you at the rink, ok?"

"Ok..."

"Morning, Violet..." Oh, god. I know we buried hatchets in New York, but right now, he's the last one I need to see right now, "Is everything alright?"

"Yurio's jetlagged," I explained, "He's kind of a loose cannon right now, so I wouldn't get near his mouth."

"Why?"

"He bites," I chuckled, "You can ask Victor. He's broken skin. His left arm has a scar on it from him."

"Mama," Yurio looked up at the man standing next to me, "Is this that Doyle Wallace guy?"

"No," I lied for everyone's personal safety, "He's just a friend. Don't worry about it. What do you want me get for you?"

"Caramel coconut," he ordered, "Shot of espresso."

"You don't need..." I did one last assessment of Yurio's current state. He really is dead inside, "Alright. I got you."

"You're giving your son coffee?" Doyle wondered, questioning my parenting.

"Yeah," I nodded, "He's very tired and very jetlagged and he has a competition today. Care to join me?"

"I'd love to," he agreed, "But unfortunately, I need to go down to the rink and set my camera up. If I don't get any good action shots today, my editor will kill me. Not an exaggeration, but he will actually kill me."

"Well," I offered, "Do you want anything? I'll be bringing it to the rink anyway."

"No, thanks," Doyle smiled, "I really did have you all wrong, didn't I, Violet?"

"Don't feel bad," I giggled, "A lot of people do."

I walked down to the elevators and headed out the lobby. Coffee, coffee...I need a good coffee shop in London that's not too far from the rink, ideally. It's been years since I've been here, so I wasn't sure what's popped up and what's shut down. Luckily, I found a spot on the corner. Only a couple blocks away from the rink. It's going to be a good day. I mean, I still looked like a mess, but a mildly presentable mess.

"Good morning." That voice...I knew that voice, "Oh, hey! I know you!"

"Hi," I grinned, remembering that voice and those horribly calloused fingers, "William, right?"

"That's me," he confirmed, "And Violet, right?"

"Uh-huh," I nodded, "That's me."

"Where's your little friend?" William checked over the counter, "You two seem like you're inseparable."

"He's on his way to the rink with his coach," I told him, "They were looking to get in a little extra practice."

"Did he get any sleep last night?" he hoped.

"Maybe an hour or so," I bit my lip, "Why else would I be here?"

"A little young for coffee, isn't he?"

"Not really," I admitted, "He's not as young as you think. He's only nine, but I was drinking coffee at his age. And that's before I was competing."

"Alright," William let me go, "I won't judge. So, what do you need?"

"Two caramel coconut lattes," I ordered, "One double shot, one single."

"And you're giving him espresso?" he gasped, punching my order in, "Should I call CPS?"

"No," I assured, "The single's for him. The double's for me. I've seen pageant parents give their nine-year olds mixtures of Red Bull and Mountain Dew before. If you want someone to call CPS on, call on them."

"Yikes," Willian chuckled under his breath, "By the way, I get off in an hour. When's your little one's competition?"

"It's at two," I held back a smile. He remembered, "Will I be seeing you there?"

"Probably," he thought for a minute, "I'm sure I don't have anything else to do today."

"Awesome," I praised, "I'll see you there."

"Sure will," William finished up, putting the whipped cream on. One heavier than the other, "The single has extra whipped cream on it. He could probably use the sugar boost, too."

"Oh, he's dead inside," I awed, "Thank you, William. You're a saint."

"You're welcome," I dug around in my bag for some money to pay the man, "Oh, don't worry about it, Violet. I got it."

"No," I shook my head, finding my wallet, "I got it. I appreciate the sentiment, but I wouldn't feel right about it."

"Again," William was persistent, "Don't worry about it. I got it."

"Are you sure?" I still felt weird about it.

"Yeah," he brushed me off, "It's a couple pounds, Violet. It's not the end of the world."

"Ok," I let it go, taking the cups off the counter, "So, I'll see you at the rink then?"

"Sure will," William shot me a wink, "See you later."

"Bye," I like him. He's sweet. He understands I'm not in the position for a relationship, yet he still scores me coffee. God bless him. I walked off to the rink and looked around for my little angel. My little sleep deprived, cranky ass angel. Where are you, Yurio?

"No!" Found him, "I'm not doing it! Not yet!"

"What seems to be the problem?" I slid in, giving Yurio the Columbian gift from God.

"Celestino was trying to get me to practice without you," Yurio stood his ground, "I told him we were waiting for you, but apparently, you were taking too long."

"But I'm here," I announced, "Get some of that in you. William put extra whipped cream on it just for you."

"Yay!" Yurio popped the domed top on his cup and glomped down on the mound of fluff sticking out. That has to be my son. After all his whipped cream was gone, Yurio laid his head on my hip, "Mama…"

"Yeah, baby?" I wrapped my arm around him.

"I don't want to do this," his sleep deprivation was past the angry stage and into the tossing in the towel on life stage, "I want to go back to bed."

"I know, Yuri," I cradled him, "It's alright. It's just one competition. The first one on the road is always the hardest. We can do it, though. You and me. We're nothing if not a bit tenacious. And that's just out of spite."

"I know," Yurio mumbled into my side.

"You can nap in a little while," I promised, "Once that espresso hits, though, it'll be like you never needed sleep in the first place."

"Really?" he looked up at me.

"Trust me, sweetheart," I grinned, "Espresso makes jetlag disappear. It's your friend. Now, come on. Let's go skate Bubblegum. Sound like a plan?"

"Yeah," Yurio pulled himself together and kept sipping down his latte. I may have created a caffeine addicted monster, but whatever gets him through. I'm sure one shot of espresso with his coffee isn't going to make his heart give out. He'll be fine.

Good old-fashioned Bubblegum Bitch. Definitely a catchy little tune. And I knew it would get Yurio all pumped up. Marina usually did. I know it did for me. We're going to going to hammer out a quick routine and everything would be just fine. Just one and he'd be able to go back out into the world, kick ass, take names, and chew…Well, bubblegum. And given my recent tryst with the media, I'd say I've become that bubblegum bitch.

"We did it!" Yurio folded over the partition, all energized and ready to go. This kid was ready to kill someone with his bare hands. Or skate one of the best routines of his life. Either one. We'll decide that on the way.

"Yes, we did," I hugged him tight, "I'm proud of you, baby. You've definitely grown since we first stepped on the rink together. And you didn't step on my feet!"

"And you didn't drop me!" Alright…The kid knows how to fire back. I'm impressed.

"Come on," I sent him off, "Let's go get you ready. Locker room. Now."

"Yes, ma'am!" I see the espresso's kicked in, too. Yeah. I've created a monster. Honestly, this was all I wanted. For this season to be me coaching Yurio while I still get to skate on the side. I just wanted to see my baby go on to do great things. But instead, I got too caught up in my own bullshit to even focus on his program. It's amazing what happens when I work with Yurio. It's centering, in its own special way.

"Violet," Celestino grabbed my arm before I had the chance to go to the locker room.

"Yeah, Coach?" Oh, shit. What did you do, Violet? What did you do wrong? Was it letting Yurio go for quads during practice?

Instead of a thorough ass beating, Celestino merely smiled, pulling me into his chest, "It's good to have you back. I missed you."

 **A/N: That last line gets me. Do you understand what that last line means? I do. Well, I hope so. I wrote it. But things are starting to look up for Violet. As long as they keep looking up, that's all that matters. And Celestino has come to notice that, too.**

 **Now, for some real life business. I'll be up in Michigan next week, so we're going to have a canned update. Pray for me, friends. My last trip to Michigan wasn't pretty, so fingers crossed that this one is much, much better. Hopefully, we won't do what we did the time before last and take an extra week up there. You'll still be getting your update. Don't worry. I just thought I'd let you in on that. And as always, if you happen to see me (check Instagram for my face.), don't hesitate to come up to me. Chances are, I'll be thrilled and your virtual hugs can be redeemed. So, I'll see you next chapter! xx**


	38. She's So Lucky

**A/N: Hi, friends! If you're reading this in real time, I'm in Michigan right now. I'm sorry that this week's update is going to be short. I had a day to write three others, so please don't be mad at me. I'm going to shut up and let you read now, ok? Ok.**

Everything we've worked on has led up to this moment. I had yet to see Yurio's routines for this year. I didn't even know what his song list was. I knew what his theme was, though. Fame. What was he going to open with? When I walked back into the arena, I caught sight of the rest of the family waving frantically from the stands.

"Violet!" Victor called for me, making all of the press look toward Victor. Surprise, surprise, "Come sit with us!"

I wasn't going to say no. I wanted to, but for the sake of appearances, I sat on the other side of Chris, "Hi, guys. Did I miss anything?"

"Not yet," Chris shook his head, "He's about to go on, though."

"Awesome," I watched as the arena went dark. A familiar beat began...

"This is the story about a girl named Lucky..." the speaker barked out. Ok. I can get on board with this. The song fits his theme perfectly. The story of a girl that got too famous too fast and now, she's crashing and burning in pursuit of attention from anyone willing to give it to her. And nobody knows the half of it...

But then, Yurio started getting into some moves that looked awfully familiar. His double toe loop was absolutely flawless...Wait...I taught him that. In fact, the whole routine was comprised of moves I taught him and helped him with every single time we'd practice together. Oh my god...How much have you caught onto, Yurio? Because your whole routine...It's about me.

This was hitting way too close to home. I couldn't do this. I got up from my seat and bolted for the locker room to bawl my eyes out. What have I done? I just watched my life for the past eight months play out in front of me from the perspective of an outsider looking in. By the looks of it, he'd be willing to do anything to save me, but he couldn't get to me in time. Just when I think I could handle it, this happens. I mean, it's not my first bathroom cry, but it's the first time it was Yurio making me bathroom cry.

"Violet?" And here's the icing on the shit cake, "Vi, are you ok?"

"I'm pretty far from ok," I snapped, "Go away."

"You know I can't do that, Violet," Victor stood outside my stall, "What's wrong?"

"I need to be alone," I begged, "Please, Victor. Just leave."

"I can't leave you, Violet," he put his foot down, "Not in good conscience. Come on. Talk to me. What's the matter?"

"I'm a total screw-up," my voice broke, "Even worse, Yurio knows it."

"What do you mean?" Victor asked.

"His whole routine," I shook, "It's about me."

"How do you know?"

"Because," I wept, in serious need of a hug, "Listen to the song. Look at his moves. There's no way it's not about me."

There was a long silence on the other side of the stall, "I was hoping you wouldn't catch on to that. I noticed it, too."

"Victor..." I unlocked my door, "Do you..."

"Do I what?" he came in, wrapping his arms around me.

"Never mind," I brushed him off, "Don't worry about it."

"Violet," Victor held me against his chest, "What is it?"

"Do you regret us getting divorced?" I spat it out. Regrettably.

I caught Victor entirely off guard. That wasn't something that happened every day. But then, he held me tighter, "It's alright, Violet."

"I think Yurio resents me," I confessed, resting my head on his shoulder, "I've been completely self centered since we moved to the US again."

"He doesn't resent you," he promised, "I know that for a fact. Violet, you've been nothing but an inspiration for him. Who taught him how to skate?"

"Me."

"Who introduced him to skating in the first place?"

"Both of us."

"Vi..." Victor gave me a look, "Do you want to try that again? Who was up with Yurio the night he had the bad nightmare? Who took him to the rink that night?"

"Me."

"You're also who he skates for," he swore, "He skates to make you proud. Just like you skate to make him proud, don't you?"

"I might," I blushed a little.

"So, his routine is about you," Victor comforted, "You have a hell of a story, Violet. You've been to hell and back twice over and you're still standing. Tell me how that's not an inspiration."

"It is..." I didn't see how I've been to hell and back, but go off, I guess.

"You'll be ok," Victor gave me a kiss on the top of my head, "Now, we're going to get you cleaned up, so you don't look like a hot ass mess for the cameras."

"Bless you." Victor Nikiforov doing the lord's work.

"Honestly, Violet," he chuckled under his breath, getting a paper towel wet for me, "What would you do without me?"

Ouch. That question hit me harder than expected. Honestly, I didn't know what I'd do without him. But I fear that one day and one day soon, I may find out. I know I could always depend on Victor, but I had to rid myself of that mentality. I needed to learn how to stand on my own. He's not always going to be around to pick me up, dust me off, and stand me back on my feet. No, Violet. You just got done crying. Dry those tears, pick that head up, and move on. You can do it...

Although I would one day be without him, I'll take this for now.

Victor finished off my makeup and no one would be able to tell I spent the last half hour crying in the bathroom. Hell, I even looked better coming out than what I did going in. Victor had a strange talent for that. And this is what I kept him around for. I did feel strangely better. However, I'm getting wasted in my hotel room tonight. That's for sure.

"Mama!" Yurio ran to me, hot, sweaty, and wired all to hell. Looks like the espresso from this morning has made its second round, "I did it!"

"What'd you do, baby?" I wondered. As if I didn't already know.

"I WON GOLD!"

"I'm so proud, Yurio!" I hugged him tight, "I'm so proud of you."

Well...Looks like we're going to Moscow.

 **A/N: Should we have expected anything less? No. Yurio's a kickass skater and Mama trained him well. Even though it was mostly Celestino this season. Still, why do I have the urge to give him a hug? Like, a really big one? Either way, see you next chapter! When we're back in Russia!**


	39. Black

**A/N: Hi, friends! I missed you! Because I've already said this twice and I'm not sure how many of you are multifandom here that read Monday and Tuesday updates, but I'm going to keep the vacation recap short and sweet. Everything went swimmingly. Everything was much better than the last time with the exception of a couple moments. And I'm glad to be home. Now, because you don't care about my alleged exciting life, how about we get to the chapter for this week, yeah? I promise this one will be much longer than the last one. Let's get into it, shall we?**

There's something to be said for early mornings in Moscow. The slight chill I the air, the feeling of the seasons changing, the smell of the river in the air. Then, there's my personal favorite. The mixture of business professionals heading to work and riff raff on their way home from a long night of parties and poor life choices. I loved it. Sometimes, it's nice to come to my second home. I couldn't help but swoon. Especially that sunrise. I loved my New York sunrises, but Moscow…My heart belongs here.

"Violet," Celestino gave me a nudge, "Were you listening?"

"I'm sorry, Coach," I shook myself out of my daydream headspace, "Could you run that by me again?"

"I asked you what song you're doing tonight," he let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "Honestly, Violet. Where is your head?"

"On my shoulders," I snapped back, "I just got caught up in a little bit of nostalgia. That's all."

"How long has it been since you were last in Moscow?" Celestino asked.

"Not since Victor and I adopted the boys," I thought back, "And to think, we lived just down the road."

"If you count the four-hour train ride just down the road," he teased, "Then, yes. It's just down the road."

"Dobro pozhalovat' domoy, Violet," Victor came up behind me with the boys following closely behind.

"You, too," I wiggled out from under him, "Where to, Coach?"

"Aren't you full of synthetic energy?" Celestino pointed out, "You and I are going to the hotel to get some rest. Yurio, you, too. You both have a big competition tonight."

"Good," Yurio grumbled. He needed the sleep. That boy was running on fumes and he's been a trooper through this. I had to commend him for that as a skater. As his mother, it worried the hell out of me.

The six of us got three hotel rooms next to each other for some ungodly reason. Victor, Chris, and the babies got the first, Celestino got the middle, and mine was at the end of the hall. However, there was no way I would get any sleep. I slept on the plane from London to Moscow. It wasn't synthetic energy I was full of. It was my own. When I knew for a fact that Celestino was out like a light, I snuck out of my room to blow off some steam. Not letting me out of his sight, my ass. Let's see. What did Celestino say? Four hours there. Four hours back. It's not too much to take the train. And where better to blow off some steam?

I jumped on the next train and took off. Homeward bound. Coach said he wanted me to rest up, but I was way too wired to sleep and I felt too good to let this go to waste. Even though train rides had a thing about making me sleepy, I couldn't wait for the train to stop. I had one rink in the entire world that I skated the best at. And if I was this close to home, I'm not saying no to the opportunity.

Damn, I missed being in St. Petersburg. They really mean it when they say there's no place like home. Something about being here felt strange. Not strange. Different. I haven't been back to St. Petersburg since Victor and I got divorced. Was that what it was? Now that I'm here without him, I don't deserve to call this home? No. Don't think like that, Violet. You should know better. When you moved to St. Petersburg all those years ago, it welcomed you with open arms and you know that. Now, let's get to the rink and skate this out. Nowhere on Earth centered me like this rink did.

Luckily for me, the owner still remembered my face. He started rambling excited notions in Russian. Granted, I was pretty fluent, but some of what he said still didn't make any sense. He was just happy to see me again. It put an uneasy feeling in my stomach when he called me Mrs. Nikiforov, though. News of our divorce must not have gotten here yet. I'm just glad they're not burning me at the stake for it. Victor's revered as a god around here. Regardless, I just want to skate for a while and lose my head.

Now, what to skate to…I already knew what I was skating to tonight. Bad Romance would be on the evening's roster. But for now…I scrolled aimlessly through my phone's music and I found a song that hit me in the strangest place. I haven't listened to Pearl Jam in ages. Not since I was in high school. But today would prove to be different. The opening riff of Black rang in my ears. I liked this. I could skate to this. If memory serves, this was kind of a slow song. It'd be nice to glide around the rink to this.

Black always was one of my favorites. It told a tale of lost love from a time long past. When I listened to it, I always thought that the couple met when they were young and the whole world was in front of them. But a new world was about to open up to them and they could've dived in head first together. However, things changed. And their worlds forked from there.

 _Someday, you'll have a beautiful life. I know you'll be a star in somebody else's sky…Why can't it be mine?_

Those final lines punched a hole in my heart I wasn't expecting today. I didn't need that. Instead of melting down on the ice, my phone decided to ring. To whoever would be on the other end, thank you. You have no idea what you just did for me, but know that I shall be forever grateful. Today was not a good day for tears.

"Hello?"

"WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?!" Oh, shit. He's awake.

"Getting in some last-minute practice," I settled him, "Relax, Celestino. Everything's fine."

"WHERE ARE YOU GETTING THAT PRACTICE IN?!" Celestino's tirade continued, "BECAUSE YOU SURE AS HELL AREN'T HERE!"

"I'm at a different rink," I bit my lip, holding back tears. I've already been forcing that back. Celestino's yelling wasn't helping, "I'll be back before competition, Coach. Don't worry about it."

"YOU BETTER BE!" One little snivel from me was all it took. Celestino began to calm down, "Look…We drew last. If you're a little late, it won't kill you. How are you feeling?"

"Pretty good, actually," I pulled myself together, "I'll be on my way back shortly, ok?"

"Alright," he took a much gentler tone, "Ti amo, bambina. See you soon."

"Ti amo anch io, allenatore," I smiled, throwing my bag over my shoulder.

I headed back to the train station for that four-hour ride back to Moscow. Unfortunately, there was a bit of a delay and it'd be about fifteen minutes before everything was squared away. Dammit. It's only fifteen minutes. Celestino did say it'd be ok if I was a little late. I guess it's because everyone was headed to Moscow for this. When the prodigal son comes home, people's lives shut down for that. All I could do was keep my head down and hope to God I don't get recognized.

"Violet…?" Shit…I don't want to deal with fans right now. But that wasn't just any fan, "VIOLET! MOY LUCHSHIY DRUG (MY BEST FRIEND!)!"

"NATALIA!" I threw my arms around the one person that would keep me grounded right now. 

"What are you doing back here?" she squealed, happy as hell to see me, "I thought you moved to New York."

"I did move to New York," I confirmed, "We're here for competition. Have you not been following?"

"I didn't think you were following Victor around," Natalia assumed.

And another punch to the balls while I'm down, "Try again. I've been skating on my own. This has been my comeback season."

"You're shitting me!" she gave me a pop to the shoulder, "It's about damn time you get back in the game! Serves me right for only watching the men's skating. Because Victor's been doing so well this year. But should we really be that surprised?"

"Nope," I bit my tongue, doing my best not to explode on her, "You must not have heard."

"Heard what?"

And now, to break the news to Nat, "Victor and I got divorced at the beginning of the year. He and Chris got married the next day."

"Well," Natalia winced, "Congratulations to them. Have you seen anyone since?"

"We don't talk about that," I cringed, shaking that memory off, "So, are you headed to Moscow?"

"No, unfortunately," she pouted, "I'm going to see my mother this weekend."

"Well," I got up from my spot on the bench, "Wish me luck. Celestino's about to have my ass and he'd kill me if he knew I was in St. Petersburg."

"Good luck, Vi," Nat hugged me one last time, "I miss you. I love you. Kick some ass."

"I always do."

Damn, it was good to be home. And seeing Natalia on top of that was the icing on the cake. Now, I needed to get back into the mindset. Bad Romance. Bad Romance. The way I'm telling it is from the perspective of a one-sided love victim. The jilted lover. But from the way I see it…Maybe I knew a place where I could draw from the jilted lover. Was I really the jilted? I don't know. And the vodka on the train wasn't knocking anything loose. I'm sure I'll figure something out on the ice. My strength always was in winging it.

I got back to the rink in Moscow where the arena was already filling quickly. Yikes. During competition, I never got nervous. The lights were always so bright that I couldn't even see the crowd, but I'd always cheat to them anyway. Seeing them now was a bit intimidating. Right now, I couldn't think about that. I had to get ready. I looked like a hot ass mess after skating my heart out back home. Not to mention, the mini emotional roller coaster Black took me on didn't do me any favors. But it was nice to vent.

"There you are, Violet!" Celestino threw his arms around me, "You had me worried, tesoro. Where were you?"

"Just at a different rink," I brushed him off, "This one had too many people. I needed to get my head on straight."

"Well," he got his head back in the game, "Get to the locker room and get ready, ok? You're up next."

"Yes, sir," I kissed his cheek and started walking back toward the locker room. Although, Victor grabbed my arm on the way through, "Uh…What the hell?"

"I know where you were, Violet," Victor smiled, "You were gone for quite some time. And when you told Celestino you were just leaving…"

"How'd you…?"

"He came to our room looking for you," he went on, "It took you a few hours to get here. And I mean this in the least creepy way…"

He picked up a lock of my hair and…sniffed it. Immediately, I jumped back, "Victor, what the hell?!"

"Just as I thought," Victor settled me, "You were in St. Petersburg, weren't you?"

Damn his nose from hell. But see, I'm pretty sure he knew his hometown better than I did, "Yeah. Now, do you mind? I have to get ready, so I can go skate. Is that alright with you?"

"Be my guest…"

 **A/N: I really do recommend playing Pearl Jam's Black during this chapter. It's truly a beautiful song. And it reminds me of these two crazy kids a lot. Violet…She just needs to get her head on straight. And I think she needs a hug. But don't you worry, my lovelies. These next couple chapters are going to be a bit…Well…You'll see. See you next chapter! xx**


	40. Caught in a Bad Romance

**A/N: Hi, friends. Look, yes. I know this chapter's out really late and I know it's short, but believe me. I've tried so hard on this. I'm writing while tired, so please don't be mad at me.**

Eww...I knew they would've been waiting. Celestino was pissed at me for skipping town on him for a while. And this would be my punishment. One catty stylist, one catty makeup artist, and one already in a bitchy mood Violet that doesn't have the intestinal fortitude to deal with them today. I hope you're getting your kicks, Celestino, you sadistic son of a bitch. I didn't mean that. Mama Cialdini is a sweetheart. But that didn't make these two any more pleasant.

My long black curls tickled the top of my back while I got into a saucy leather number meant for both Bad Romance and S&M. Although, I was debating on whether or not to keep S&M on the setlist. If Mike would've been cool with me going on a world tour, it'd be a different story. But if they had continued the way they were without Chris busting things up, my heart wouldn't have been in it. There would be nothing but a shell on that ice. Oh well. My greatest strength did always lie in my improvisational skills. I'd have to make that decision quick.

I already knew I was in the finals. If I place today, I'm in the clear. Given that I've already won London and Moscow is practically home turf, I'm sure I can do this. My head's a little foggy, but that might have been from the vodka I had on the train from St. Petersburg. I needed something to soothe my nerves. What better to do that for me than a long train ride and a little Russian vodka? Just what a girl needs to get her head on straight.

When I heard the loud speaker boom out my name, my time had come. With a kiss on my cheek and well wishes from Celestino, along with cheers and squeals from my boys, I skated out to the middle of the rink, cheating out to the crowd. Relax, Violet. You'll do fine. Shake the feelings you vented out in St. Petersburg off. That's not what this routine's about. That doesn't fit your theme. Alright. You ready? Let's do this.

Once the opening guitar riff blared out, I had it. I knew what this was. A story of unrequited love. Of a woman who has a heart too big for herself. She gets so greedy that her big heart and all of his best parts aren't enough. The good parts of him are nice, but everyone gets to see them. She wants the dark. The ugly. The gritty. The parts he would think no one would want. She wants to be that lifeline for him. And she is.

What she doesn't realize is that lifeline is giving her delicate, caring hands the most wicked and rough case of rope burn. Yet, she doesn't want to let go. She can't. The rope had wrapped around her hands. It snaked up her arm and draped around her neck, ready to choke her at any given moment. Before she knew it, that lifeline had her completely tangled in a web she could never get herself free from. Except maybe with a quadruple toe loop, just to drive the point home.

I stood tall once the song ended. Every muscle in my body told me to fall dramatically to the ice, but I had to stay on my feet. As the rain of flowers and gifts fell over me, I kept the giant smile they all loved to see plastered on my face. Granted, I did just kick major ass at my routine, but on the inside, there was no celebration. There was an aching pair of feet and a throbbing hip and thighs on fire struggling to keep me up. And to top it all off, a heart too big for one person shattered to pieces.

"That was fantastic, Violet!" Celestino threw his arms around me, pulling me into the hug I so desperately needed right now, "I'm so proud of you."

"Thanks, Coach." Don't start crying, Violet. Don't let them see you sweat. Bottle it up. Let them see the smile they're here for. Break down in the hotel room, not when the cameras are rolling.

"It appears you have more fans here than you thought," he took some of the flowers off my hands, "Should I be worried?"

"No," I promised, "I know the rules. No dating fans."

"Very good," Celestino praised, "Now, do you have any plans for tonight?"

Go into my hotel room and bawl my eyes out, "Not that I can think of. I kind of wanted to just have a quiet night inside."

"Come on, Violet," he groaned, "I know you've been a good girl since we left the US and for the sake of my health, I thank you for that. But let me take you out tonight."

"Thanks, but no, thanks," I brushed him off, "Really, Celestino. I'm exhausted. I don't think I could physically go out tonight. I just want to go back to the hotel and get some sleep."

"Don't make me play dirty, Violet..."

"Shut your damn mouth, Celestino," I knew what his playing dirty would entail. Clearly, someone didn't understand my routine, "I'm tired and I want to go to bed."

Immediately, Celestino backed off, "Alright. I'll celebrate for two then?"

"Just have Chris and Victor leave the boys with me," I let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, "Let them have a night off."

"That's awfully kind of you, Violet," he awed.

"But I also know better," I pointed out, "Yurio's going to crash as soon as his head hits a pillow and Yuri might stay up a few minutes after that only to do the same thing. I raised those boys for a good majority of their lives, Celestino. If I don't know how they work, there's something wrong with me. People seem to forget that."

I was way too tired to process anything. I just wanted to go back to the hotel. Was that too much to ask? Once I had my gold medal in my hand, I walked out, pushing my way through the crowds and the reporters. Even Chris and Victor tried reaching out for me. But I couldn't deal with anyone right now. And that included my boys. All of them. And I had no energy to even celebrate. Don't get me wrong. I'm stoked I won gold. But now, I just wanted to sleep.

The sun had already started setting over Moscow and I got some damn nice views from my room. After a glass of hospitality that felt warm all the way to my tummy, I threw myself on the bed. Rome, Violet. In the next day or so, you'll be back in Rome. You haven't been there in quite some time. Not since the incident in Tokyo that led you to…

MAMA! I haven't seen Mama Cialdini in years! I miss her. I should find that one app on my phone that helped me learn Italian. Once in a while, I'll use it with Celestino, but Mama's English wasn't exactly the best. And she and I have had some rather deep conversations over her kitchen table. I loved Mama Cialdini more than my own mother. But in order to get back to Rome, I had to get some sleep. Just a little. That's all I needed. Then, I can get back up and do this all again.

A little while later, I felt something else moving in my bed. And another something else. One on my left, one on my right. I see someone got my message. Not that I minded. I'm sure these two were only going to sleep. I mean, there was another bed in my room, but this was ok. I could get on board with this, too. I woke up just long enough to tuck them in, giving them each a kiss goodnight.

 **A/N: I know exactly what Violet's feeling. First of all, panic attacks take soooooooooooo much out of a person. And once you've fully come down, all you want to do is sleep. Kind of like me right now. If it wasn't obvious, I'm wrecked. I've been on my feet all day and I think I'm going to go sleepy bye now. Next week, we're going to see the babies skate. We'll see what they can do and if they make their mama proud (of course they do…). See you next chapter! xx**


	41. Chasing Astronauts

Aww...Look at my boys. My precious little boys still sleeping soundly at my hips. Yuri and Yurio may not agree on much. Hell, some days, they don't even like each other. But there was no doubt about it. Neither one of them would hesitate to use my legs or my stomach as a pillow. They're both so cute when they're sleeping. My boys. Mama's special boys. I get to watch my boys skate today. Hopefully, Yurio won't be giving me any more surprises like last time. No crying in the locker room today, Violet.

"Mmm..." And the first one wakes up. Yuri felt around the bed for his glasses. I nudged them a bit closer. There you go, Yuri, "Good morning, Mama."

"Good morning, Yuri," I kissed his round, little cheek, "Did you sleep ok?"

"Uh-huh," he cuddled into me, "What time is it?"

"It's a little after seven," I checked the clock, "Why?"

"We should probably get some practice in before competition," Yuri tried to get up. He wobbled a bit. Not even on the ice and he's already beat. My god, Victor. How hard have you been working him? Then again, Yuri had a pretty ridiculous drive when it came to his skating. His little brother was no different. It'll be their saving grace and their downfall. I bet Yuri's legs are full of bruises and stress fracturs. And it wouldn't surprise me if Yurio's the same way.

"I don't think so, kiddo," I kept Yuri on the bed, "It's not going to kill you to lay here for a bit."

"But Mama," he whined, "I need to practice."

"You also need to take care of yourself, Yuri," I kept my voice down. Even though Yurio could sleep through a freight train.

"I do," he promised me, still trying to get up, "But I can handle it, Mama! Let me go!"

"Think of it this way." Victor's words from a time long passed came to me, "Every competition up to Grand Prix is practice for the Grand Prix. That way, you won't peak throughout the season either."

"Wow..." Yuri began to relax, "I never thought of it that way."

"Your daddy told me that when I first started skating," I wrapped my arm around him.

"Maybe Victor could tell you a little quieter next time," a cranky tiger cub growled in my ribs.

"Well," I smiled down at my baby, who glared up at me, "Good morning, dovahkiin."

"Mama, I'm tired," Yurio grumbled, "Can you get me some more coffee?"

"Of course, sweetheart," I allowed, "Yuri, what about you? You want a little something, something, too?"

"Sure," Yuri nodded, "Can I have a green tea?"

"Absolutely," I got up and threw a hoody on, "You two, stay here. I'll be right back. Yurio, no tying your brother up and throwing Cheerios at him."

"No promises."

I knew better, though. If I ask Yurio not to do something, he won't. With my boys locked in the room, I snuck down to the hotel cafe and got them exactly what they needed to start the day. Along with my own favorite addiction. It's not like I was leaving them for long. When I got back, they were both damn near ready for competition. I knew we did something right with those two.

"Thank you, Mama," they took their respective cups.

"Anytime, boys," I melted inside, "Anytime."

Knock, knock.

What the hell...? I don't remember ordering room service and Yuri and Yurio knew better. I got up from the bed and checked the peephole. Alright. Not the maid. Not a hooker. I opened the door to find my ex-husband's dark circles on the other side. Yet I've heard him give me shit about my own for years. It'll be nice to kindly return the favor.

"Hi, Victor," I let him in before anyone had the chance to see.

"Morning," he rubbed his eyes.

"Hi, Daddy!" Yuri ran into his arms.

"Good morning, Yuri," Victor's face lit up, "Are you ready for today's competition? Are you going to make me proud?"

"Definitely!" Someone's tea has kicked in. Or he stole some of Yurio's espresso. No. Yuri's arms were still attached.

"Go back to our room," Victor put him down, "Your costume's hanging in the closet. Yurio, you, too. Celestino's looking for you."

"Ok." Yuri and Yurio left Victor and me alone. And now, to tear into his hungover ass.

"Are you alright, Victor?" I worried, "You look like shit."

"Chris and I went out last night," he smiled, "I feel like I've been through hell, but nothing a little concealer can't hide, right? You should've been there. It was so much fun."

"It looks like it," I teased, "Nothing quite like being back in Russia, huh?"

"I do miss the motherland once in a while," Victor chuckled, "But we'll have Rome. You are going out with us in Rome, right? No. You have to. It's non-negotiable. We haven't been in Rome in years. We're getting Celestino to watch the boys and we're having a proper night out in Rome if it kills me."

"If you say so." If I haven't exhausted myself first. I'm skating double duty in Rome. My own program, then Yurio's special program. Rome is going to kill me. If I come out of it injury free, I'll be amazed.

With Yuri and Yurio preparing for competition at noon, I had a little time to kill. What to do in Moscow when I have nothing better to do. I could take a guided tour and correct the tour guide. But I don't want to be that dick. Don't get me wrong. I could stand to be petty once in a while, but a full-on dick like that? Someone's just trying to make a living with the city they loved.

I could go and get a tattoo. I've had an idea for one bouncing around my head for a while, but the thought of Celestino handing my ass to me on a silver platter didn't appeal to me much. Especially not when Grand Prix Finals are coming up so soon. Skating with a tailbone injury sucked. Maybe I could get a new piercing. Some dermals on the tops of my hips would be cool. But if I were to fall on the ice with fresh hip dermals, I'd bawl my eyes out. I knew exactly what I could do!

My routine for Rome was getting scrapped. I'm not doing S&M, but I had no idea what's replacing it. I'll figure it out eventually. I didn't have the time to find another rink to skate at for today. But it won't hurt to find something else to use for a costume. It's not like I could use the ropes and the leather I had intended on. Not when I'm not doing S&M anymore.

Maybe I could go back to the roots a little more. Something more innocent. It'd be a total one-eighty from the original plan. Sometimes, these things change. Not that I'm complaining. S&M wasn't even really my routine. It's what Mike wanted me to do. I didn't make that decision. But now that I was free, I could do whatever I wanted. Maybe my costume could reflect that. Something light and flowy. I always looked good in chiffon. It's too bad I didn't bring my sewing kit with me. I'd really go back to the old days and make one.

No. I found a white dress in a thrift store that spoke to me. The woman said she couldn't sell it to me because of the stains on it, but they looked like coffee stains. It's perfect. So, instead of dropping money on it, I brought it back to the hotel room. Let's see. What can I do with you? You're light like I wanted. It'll be a bit cold, but that's what skater tights are for. I could cut it off at the bottom and leave it frayed. It could easily apply to a multitude of situations. Jilted lover, returns from battle, falling apart, a spirit stuck in the veil. I could've used this when I was skating Black yesterday. A little bit of tweaking and it's perfect. Maybe a little more tulle on the skirt?

I didn't have time for that now. I had babies to support. And the arena was PACKED. I'm sure that was for previous Junior Grand Prix winner Yuri Nikiforov. Or because they knew Victor would be here. He was nothing if not a press magnet. Alright. Now, what's the line-up? Which one of my babies is going first?

Yurio. Yurio wasn't just the first one between him and Yuri. He's got the dreaded first position. Then again, he's gotten gold with every first spot he's ever had, so I shouldn't be worried. Kick some ass, baby. Mama knows you got this. And…if you could not make me cry this time around, I'd really appreciate it.

It seems someone's feeling cheeky, not soul bearing. I guess I'm not the only one doing Gaga this time around. Paparazzi began to play over the loudspeaker. Alright, Yurio. What kind of story are you telling today? One of relentless pursuits of those damn leeches. But toward the middle of his program, Yurio began to cheat out to the crowd, just like Mama taught him. Instead of fighting the press, he's sending his love to them. Because in the end, they boost his career while boosting their own. Everyone wins. Very diplomatic, Yurio. Very diplomatic. And your cheekiness of ending your routine with my dreaded double toe loop did not go unnoticed.

84.65. Alright. I can agree with that.

"Mama!" Yurio skated to the partition, jumping into my arms, "How did I do?"

"I would've given you a couple points higher," I shrugged, "But what are you doing with my double toe loop?"

"Sorry," he bit his lip, "I was in the moment. It was supposed to be a triple, but I lost a rotation."

"Good," I let it go, "Your double was a little shaky. If you would've went for a triple, you would've gotten hurt."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," Celestino agreed with me, "But you still did great, Yurio."

"Thanks, Celestino," Yurio pulled his skates off and popped all his toes. My god, this kid's like bubble wrap.

"Mama…" Yuri pulled at my shirt, "Are you going to stay for me, too?"

"Of course, sweetheart," I promised, "When are you up?"

"Last."

One opens up, one closes. Alright. I hope my boys make me proud. One of them already has, "Alright. What are you doing, Yuri?"

"It's a surprise," Yuri smiled, "You'll like it. Daddy said they were one of your favorite bands when you first met."

"Ok…" Oh, shit…That doesn't narrow it down. Why did I have a feeling that Yurio wouldn't be the one to rip my heart out through his routine, but Yuri instead? I listened to a lot of alternative bands when I first met Chris and Victor. And a lot of the music of the time was full of heartache and emotion. I'm screwed, aren't I? When it came to be Yuri's turn, I braced myself for the worst. It didn't start with a single G note played on a piano, so that was promising.

"Can anybody hear me?" the speaker blared out as Yuri got up from the ice, "Or am I talking to myself?"

Oh, shit, no. Instead of the story of learning to embrace the press like Yurio's, Yuri spun a different tale. Astronaut. The story of someone afraid of being forgotten. Of someone afraid of being lonely. And feeling shoved out into the vastness of space. And all he wants is to come home. But no one's listening. Can I just give Yuri a hug now? Because I'm damn near in tears again. Even amongst all the applause, I had the worst empty feeling I've ever had.

"How'd I do, Mama?" Yuri skated up to the partition, much like his brother before him, making a score 91.12. And not a word was said. All I could do was hold him. Don't let them see you cry, Violet. You keep that shit bottled up.

"You did great, Yuri," I praised, "I'm proud of you, baby."

"You were wonderful, Yuri," Victor took him off my hands, "And you're taking home gold from here!"

"I am?!" Yuri started sweating buckets, "Yay! I'm sure you'll get gold, too, Daddy. Mama, are you going to watch Daddy skate tonight?"

Victor looked over at me, anxiously awaiting my answer. I had too much in me, "I have a lot of things to do to prepare for Rome. I have to choreograph a new routine. I'm not feeling the one I had planned."

"Ok," Yuri let it go, but Victor…Victor had a look in his eye. He knew there was something up. He knew I would never pass up an opportunity to see him skate. And for something so trivial. He knew my improv skills were legendary. So, why was I turning him down now?

Victor's seen me cry enough. He doesn't need to see it anymore.

 **A/N: Poor Violet. Skating is usually very therapeutic for her. Hopefully her thinking through her new routine will make her feel better. I'm proud of my babies, though. Taking first and second. We need some reunion. And since those crazy kids are all going to the finals in Rome in the next few chapters (I'm trying to get this done and over with by November, so you guys don't have to go through NaNoWriMo hiatus.), I'm sure they won't be the only ones. I really can't wait to show you guys what I've had in mind for the ending. It makes me so happy and it's been burning a hole in my brain for weeks. I promise it'll be wonderful. See you next chapter! xx**


	42. From St Petersburg With Love

**A/N: Hi, friends! To my delightful guest from last week that went on the uber binge, you are a special kind of special and I love you. And welcome to the family. Feel free to kick your feet up and make yourself at home. That is, if you're coming back to play every week. I mean…I wouldn't mind it. That'd be pretty cool. I do write these stories for…Well, let's be honest. I write them for me. I write the fic that I need at a specific point in time. But you lovelies just happen to benefit from it. So, should we go on then? OH SHIT! I almost forgot.**

 **This chapter requires a trigger warning for mentions of past suicide attempts. I didn't want that catching anyone off guard. You know I love you and want to keep you safe. It's for half a second. In and out. That's not exactly something I like to dwell on either, but these things happen…I love you. Now, we'll go on, ok?**

Long train rides and Russian vodka make one hell of a combination. Adding solitude to that made things a little more dangerous. But it's ok. Some quiet time sounded nice. Shit, Yuri...Of all the songs you could have picked...Even Victor didn't know about that. There's a reason why I hadn't heard Astronaut in so long. I came home one night after work when I still worked the Red Room...

Fresh off an escorting gig, I needed a shower, but the water couldn't get hot enough. I thought I wouldn't go any further. All of my other friends were getting married, popping out babies, having respectable careers. And I was forgotten. I was stuck where I was with no way I could've gotten out of it. I nearly swallowed an entire bottle of painkillers. But the following night, I went to work and met a couple of really hot foreigners that turned my life around. And in the back of my mind, all I could think of was that damn song. Even now, it played on a loop in my mind.

Anything else, Yuri...I know you didn't know, but goddamn...That was worse than Lucky. _So, tonight, I'm calling all astronauts. All the lonely people that the world forgot. If you hear my voice, come pick me up. Are you out there...?_ I don't know if I need to cut myself off or drown myself more. Something tells me if I drink more, I'll just get more depressed. Besides, flying with a deathly hangover is never fun. I could handle drunk on the train, though.

I needed to get back to St. Petersburg. Religion was never really too big of a deal for me. I got my Christmas once a year and that was about it. Praying once in blue moon. Some people found solace in a church. I just had flashbacks to when I was a kid, getting bitched at by angry nuns. However, I did have a place to seek refuge and revelation. And right now, that's exactly where I needed to be.

I had no problem making the trip from Moscow to St. Petersburg. It was always worth it. And right now, it might be the only thing that'll get my head on straight. I guess we can call that my own church. Church, therapist's office, sanctuary, home. What have you. Nothing like the feeling of putting on my skates in here. And now, I had a sudden flashback to a few years ago.

Sometimes, Mama couldn't sleep. When Nat was getting off work, she'd stop by for a drink or two. And it'd help a little. But if I needed something stronger, she'd stay with my boys. And I'd be taking off to this very rink. I always thought that it was because no matter where we were, Victor and I always ran on the same clock. When he was twelve hours ahead or behind, I could feel it. That's why I always thought I could handle jet lag like a champ.

Maybe that's why I can't quit him. I want to be done with him. I want to give him the space he and Chris have always wanted. But every time I try to move away, he only moves that much closer. Why would he do that to himself? I've moved all of my stuff out of our apartment, yet I can't bring myself to leave the key on the counter. I need a hug that only this rink can give me...

I think I have my routine for Rome.

Mama can do Simple Plan, too. Only this time, instead of ripping my heart out, I can give a certain someone the metaphorical middle finger. Victor should've known better than to give Yuri Simple Plan. I liked Jet Lag, though. Did I want the English version or the French version? I think I'll go English. Why not? And it reminded me of when we first met.

Victor and I didn't always live together. He came and picked me up his next season in Montreal after we met. I had been tying up my loose ends before we started introducing me to coaches. But he called me from St. Petersburg the night before his flight. It was midnight in New York, but he greeted me with a cheerful good morning. He told me he missed me. I could still hear it plain as day. Dobrye utro, moy malyshka! And it kills me.

Why can't I quit you, Victor? What is it about you that keeps us tethered? Is it the boys? Is it us? Is it everything we've been through? Or is it me? Do I have you that hooked? If you can't quit me, it only makes it that much harder on me to quit you. I love our boys, but we can't keep doing this to each other. I've tried seeing other people, but we all remember how well that worked out.

Ow! I swear, that bullshit toe loop is going to be the death of me. Shit...I have to skate tomorrow! Tomorrow's the finals and dumbass me twists her ankle. I'll be fine. I've skated on much worse. Just don't tell anyone, set it tonight, and unwrap it when you get to the rink tomorrow and you'll be fine. Get up. Take a lap. Everything's going to be fine. I hope you have better focus than this tomorrow.

"Violet?" I thought I was damn near about to come out of my skin. I thought I would have this place to myself, "I thought I'd find you in here."

"Hi, Coach," I skated to the partition, a little shaky, but not enough for Celestino to worry.

"What are you doing here, bambina?" he took my hand and helped me off the ice, "Moscow's that way. And Rome's a bit further than that. I can't help but wonder."

"I couldn't sleep," I took a seat on the bench.

"And the train ride…" Celestino got close to me, "Or the vodka didn't take care of that? Cazzate. Would you care to answer me again without lying to me?"

"I couldn't!"

"Alright," he let it go, "Let's do some simple math here. You left shortly after Juniors closing ceremonies. That was at four o'clock. Which would put you in St. Petersburg at eight o'clock. Just in time for Victor's performance. I left a couple hours after you did when I couldn't find you anywhere else. Which puts us at now. If we left now, we could be back in Moscow by two o'clock. Given we have a flight to make at six, that would probably be for the best. It's amazing how these things line up, isn't it? If I didn't know any better, I'd think you had this planned from the beginning."

"I'm really not in the mood for a lecture, Celestino," I popped the top off my water bottle that, let's be honest, I wish was more vodka, "Can we just leave, take gold in Rome, and call it a day?"

"Violet," Celestino wrapped his arms around me, "You and I have known each other for a lot of years and I know when there's something you're not telling me. Please. Talk to me."

Dammit, Celestino. You never could leave well enough alone, could you? I hate your bloodhound instincts, "I'm a little depressed, Coach. I figured skating it out would've been a good idea. I got a little buzzed on the train and came straight here. The owner was about to close up anyway. It's not like I don't have a set of keys to this place anyway."

"What's the matter, Violet?" he cradled me, "What has you so depressed?"

I wasn't sure if the train vodka was making me chatty or if I just really needed to vent, "I screwed up."

"How do you figure?" Celestino asked.

"I never should've divorced Victor," I choked out… _Turn the hour hand back to when you were holding me…_ Holy hell, I may be drunker than I thought I was.

"Violet…" he held me tighter, "Che cos'è, tesoro?"

"Our divorce never should've happened," I buried my face in his shoulder, hiding my tears, "But Victor's in love with Chris…And you have no idea how much that hurts. I know I sound selfish, but damn, does it hurt."

"You made a big sacrifice for them," Celestino pointed out, "And I'm sure they're grateful for that."

"And who said I had to?" I squeaked, "No one! I did it out of the kindness of my own dumbass heart! And I'm kicking myself for it…I miss him, Celestino. But I can't have him. That's why I have to walk away from him. It'd be best for everyone."

"But he's your best friend, Violet…"

"Look…" I wiped my eyes, "I can't keep lying to myself. Victor and I will probably never happen again. Not to mention with Victor's return to the ice…I'm tabloid fodder enough. I don't need to drag him down with me. He doesn't deserve that."

"Violet," Celestino wouldn't let me up. I'm not sure what was stronger; his upper body or his conviction, "Where is all of this coming from? Do I just need to get you a cup of coffee and a bed?"

"It's coming from my mouth," I wiggled out of his arms (even though the physical and emotional hug felt nice) and limped a bit to my practice bag, "Drunk Violet just has the balls to say what sober Violet is thinking."

"Because sober Violet knows better," he assured, "You're not dragging anyone down. If anything, having Victor in your life any way you can get him is the best thing for you. Don't cut him out of your life like that. What would Yuri and Yurio say if they heard you talking like this?"

"Hopefully, they'd understand." Enough to know better than to use my babies against me. That was low…

"No, they wouldn't."

"Because you know my kids better than I do?" I threw my bag over my shoulder, feeling a jolt of pain run up my leg with every step. Maybe I hurt my ankle more than I thought, "We should be going. Our flight leaves in six hours."

"Violet," Celestino tried to stop me, but I wasn't in the mood to get into an argument with him. I just wanted to get back to Moscow. I could tune him out on the train. Thank you, St. Petersburg. You were a great help. Somewhat. Although, if I screwed up my ankle because I lost focus, I'm going to be pissed. I will say this. I love the man running the bar car. He was kind enough to slip me a fifth of the local spirit that kept me warm these days. Even after my coach told him to cut me off. He was cute. I wish I remembered his name.

When Celestino and I got back to the hotel, I knew there would be no sense in going to sleep. If our flight leaves at six, I'll just sleep on the plan. It's five hours from here to Rome. That's all I'd really need. Then, when I get to that hotel, I can crash until tomorrow. Sounds like a plan to me. But for now, I'll hit the coffee pot and hang in there. Before I could even get into my room, of course I was met with a welcoming committee.

"There you are, Violet!" Victor threw his arms around me, not wanting to let go, "You had me worried! Where the hell have you been?"

Why does he have to care so much? He can't quit me either. I didn't want to be so mean, but I shoved him off me, "Just…Let me be alone."

 **A/N: Can someone get Violet a hug? And possibly an AA meeting? She's been going downhill for the last couple weeks, guys. Someone…Someone needs to check up on her. But next week, they're going to be in Rome and I know there's one person (outside of Victor) that will shower her with more love than she knows what to do with. And it's the one character in the story that I've been wanting to write for soooooooooo long now. And I cannot wait. Maybe I'll write next week's update after I post this one. No…It's kind of shitty outside and I'm really feeling a Netflix binge kind of day. Or like some old school Nintendo. That sounds like a plan. So, until next time, my lovelies. See you next chapter! xx**


	43. Dovresti Sapere Megilo

Ugh...I have to stop doing this to myself. The hangovers kick my ass in the worse way. I have a competition to skate tomorrow. Hopefully, I won't feel like shit then. It wouldn't be the first time I've done it, but dammit, Violet. Stop drinking your problems. Although, Russian vodka is hard to come by in the States, so no one can blame me for getting my fill while I'm here. That whole when in Rome thing. But now, I actually had to go be in Rome.

I pulled myself out of the chair I tried napping in, but to no avail and knocked on my coach's door, "Celestino, are you awake?"

"Yeah, yeah!" he groaned on the other side. My god, he looked like he got hit by a bus. I've never seen Celestino look so rough. Tired, I'm guessing. He did have to come get me from St. Petersburg last night, "How the hell are you so functional?"

"With a prayer." To be honest, I had no idea. I knew I felt like shit and I knew I was going to sleep like a rock on the plane, but I've been up for twenty-six hours and drank on top of it. I always have been a medical anomaly.

"Alright," Celestino wasn't coherent enough to deal with me and all of my shenanigans. He went back into his room, grabbed his bag, and checked us out. Celestino didn't have to worry about Yurio. Chris and Victor got a later flight, so the boys could catch up on sleep. Those two were pretty trustworthy. Nevertheless, my coach and I had a flight to catch.

Five hours of uninterrupted sleep and constant motion from Moscow to Rome. Before I fell asleep, I took two aspirin and a Xanax and curled up in my seat. I think I'll be good for the next five hours. If anyone even attempts to wake me before we land, I will turn into Yurio and someone will be going to the hospital for a tetanus shot. That is, if they get to keep their limbs. Good night, Violet. Sleep well. Sleep this feeling off and wake up to kick some ass on the ice. You will take home gold in Rome. There is no other option.

"Violet..." a voice whispered with caution, "Wake up, bambina. And welcome back to Rome."

"We're here?" I rubbed my eyes, still in a Xanax cloud.

"That's right, principessa," Celestino kissed my forehead, "Come on. You need to get up before the plane leaves again. I promise you can go back to sleep once we get to the hotel."

"Yay," I sighed out, stumbling as I got up, "Celestino?"

"Yes, Violet?"

"Will you carry me?" I asked, wanting nothing more than to go back to sleep.

"Oh, tesoro," he chuckled, allowing me on his back. It's a good thing I'm little, "Of course. I've carried you everywhere else. Why would I stop now?"

"Thanks, Coach," I rested my head on his shoulder. Out of everyone I knew, I could always count on Celestino. Victor and Chris had the kids to worry about, but Celestino would always be the one to worry about me. He's been like a dad to me since day one. And I don't think that's ever going to change.

Sentimentality aside, I had one thing on my mind. Because Celestino didn't get us first class on the plane, I needed a bed. I pushed my hotel room door open, still out of it, but at least I could muster up the strength to walk again. He may not have splurged on our plane tickets, but thank God, he got us a damn nice hotel. I think all the time changes are finally catching up to me. Jet lag never used to be a problem for me. I was hoping that wouldn't have changed. Maybe it's because I'm getting older? No. Violet, you're not even thirty yet. Quit talking like you got a foot in the grave.

When I woke up again, I had finally shaken off the Xanax. I felt a little better, but after effects of the hangover from Russia still lingered. Once I eat something and get moving around, I'm sure I'll be better again. I sat up in bed and looked over at my window seat to find a shadowy figure sitting there. I didn't think much of it. The only strange Italian man that would be sitting there is Celestino. He's the only one that had my spare key.

"Morning, Coach," I grumbled, feeling around for anything to drink. I'd stab a man for a bottle of water. What time was it anyway? Shortly after seven. That explains why it's dark outside.

"Try again, dorogoy..." Not a strange Italian man. A strange Russian man instead. What the hell, man? Can't a girl sleep in peace? Celestino...

"What are you doing here, Victor?" I buried my face in my pillows.

"We just got in a little while ago," Victor joined me on the bed, "How are you?"

"Freakin' peachy..."

Dammit, Celestino. Of everyone you could've given my key to. I know your feelings about Victor, but come on, man. You know about mine. Victor did a quick check of me. Yes, Victor. I'm hungover and I got depression kicking my ass. I'm also jetlagged all to hell, so if I were you, I'd be careful. You don't have your oven mitts with you. Someone's feeling brave.

"Violet," Victor pushed my hair out of my face, "We need to stop meeting like this."

"What do you mean?" I knew better, "Where's everybody else?"

"In the room," he told me, "Chris is resting up right now. Celestino said he'll watch the boys. And because we're in Rome, you know damn well we won't allow you to stay here tonight. We've discussed this."

"I know."

"And we need to have a little talk," Victor put his foot down, "Because I'm not going out with you tonight with us being weird. So, talk to me. What's with you lately?"

I knew this was coming. This has been a long time coming. I wish I had a little something, something in me to grease the wheels a little, but I had enough yesterday, "I'm messy. Let's just leave it at that."

"Chush' sobach'ya," he brushed me off, "Try again. There's something you're not telling me, Violet. You know you can tell me anything."

"Just one question," I hate that the son of a bitch had me cornered, but he had me cornered, "Was…Was it easy for you after we got divorced?"

"It felt like nothing happened," Victor admitted, "Why?"

"Just curious." Yet I've been beating myself up for the last eight months for anything to make me numb. Huh. It's weird how that works, "I'm starving. Food? Do we have plans or not?"

"Come on, Violet," he smirked a bit, "You should know better."

I should know better. Now, I feel dumb. We did come all this way. Granted, it was for competition, but if we were within spitting distance and didn't bother stopping, she'd kill us. Even in her old age, she would hunt our asses down and dismember us. Besides, her cooking never EVER disappointed. A couple of knocks pounded at the door. Gee, whoever could it be?

"What do you want, Celestino?" I yelled at the door.

"Mama's expecting us!" Celestino yelled back, "She knows we're in town."

"Alright," I pushed myself out of bed, "I'll be out in a second."

"Hurry up!" he demanded, "Andiamo!"

"I'm coming!" I snapped, slipping my shoes back on.

"Do you want some coffee, Violet?" Victor worried, "You seem a bit...on edge."

"No," I shook my head, "I'm hungry. Once I eat something, I'll be fine again."

"Alright," he wasn't going to fight with me. Some people got beer muscles when they're drunk. When I get hungry, I can tear a man in half like a phone book.

Just on the outskirts of Rome, in a cute little house in the countryside, there lived a precious old woman that would make sure no one ever left hungry or unloved or without wisdom. She was a fairy tale in herself and may God have mercy on anyone that turns down her kindness. For that never happened. She'd force it down their throats first.

"Mama!" Celestino called out into the house, "Sono a casa!"

Mother of God, Mama's house always smelled good. And by the smell of things, she's been baking today. And sure enough, toodling out of her kitchen was the woman herself. It's been years since I've seen Mama in the flesh. Maybe six or seven. We had just gotten the boys Yuri and Yurio were practically babies yet. Two and three. Mama's never seen them all grown up. Well...As grown up as they are now.

"Celestino!" Mama hugged her son first, "Mi sei mancata, bambino."

"Io so," Celestino kept her from crying as much as he could, "Anche tu mi sei mancato."

But then, she let out a gasp that could be heard from the heavens, "Violetta!"

"Ciao, Mama," I kept myself together. For as advanced in years as Mama is, she had a lot of upper arm strength. It reminded me of her son. But I knew what Mama's strength came from. Years of throwing fifty-pound bags of flour over her shoulder. Still, I missed the hell out of this woman. There were few in this world that I loved more than her.

"Come va, tesoro?" Mama awed, "I see you skate?"

"In qualsiasi momento," I assured. I see she's attempting her English. I'm proud of her.

"And your babies?" she looked over my shoulder, "They are so big now!"

"They're skating, too," I gushed, "They're really good. They made it to finals."

"No more talk," Mama declared, "We eat."

"Yes please." Who was I to turn down Mama's cooking? Especially when it smells absolutely intoxicating. I've been out of sorts for ages and nothing will set me back on track better than Mama's risotto. She told no one her recipes. She told no one her spice blends. They were all her secret that she'd take to her grave. And so, I stuffed my face like it was after Tokyo all over again. If I ate, I wouldn't be depressed. If I'm not depressed, I'll be fine to skate tomorrow. That is, if Chris and Victor don't get me shitfaced tonight. I highly doubt it. I'm not the only one that has to skate tomorrow. Personally, I think it's a little much to do Juniors, Men's, and Women's all in the same day, but that's why I don't make that decision.

Yet internally, things were so messy. It didn't matter how much food I shoved down my throat. It didn't matter how much of Mama and Celestino's conversation I caught. It didn't matter how much wine I had (I limited myself, ok? I only had one glass. And if I wasn't drunk after half a bottle of Russian vodka yesterday, a glass of wine isn't going to kill me. Besides, it'd be disrespectful if I said no.). Inside, I was still a mess. And the suck part about that? Mama knew everything. She could read people like a book and she knew there was something going on.

After dinner, she left Celestino to clean the kitchen (of which he did with a smile on his face) and took his prized skater into her guest room. When Victor and I were here after my minor stint in the hospital, she brought me in here to discuss my deteriorating health from what I was doing to myself. In those days, we were practically all over each other. I'm sure Chris told her about what was going on in our household. I had a feeling this would be no different than post Japan.

"Violet," Mama worried, "What is it? There is something not right."

"It's nothing, Mama," I brushed her off, "Non preoccuparti."

"Tu menti," she glared, knowing better, "What's wrong, bambina?"

"Well," I let out a heavy sigh, "The man that I love won't love me. And it hurts."

"Kill him."

"No," I whined, "I can't do that. Killing him won't solve anything. Besides, that's a little extreme."

"It's Victor, yes?" she assumed, hitting the nail on the head.

"Uh-huh," I nodded, resting my head on her shoulder.

"He will come back to you," Mama promised, "He still loves you."

"How do you know that?" I wondered, not taking too much stock in what she says.

"It's in his eyes," she pointed out, "You no notice. I do not see it with Christophe, but I do with you. He will."

"I appreciate the moral support, Mama," I cracked a smile, "If it's alright with you, I think I'm going to leave Celestino and the babies here while Chris, Victor, and I go sample some of the nightlife. It's going to be a long day for us tomorrow and we need to blow off some steam."

"Blow off steam?" Mama gave me a look.

"Relax a bit," I explained, "Is that alright with you?"

"Yes," she beamed, "Then, you stay here, yes?"

"No," I shook my head, "Celestino got us a hotel."

"Did he?" Mama looked ready to rip her son's throat out. But she wouldn't dare.

"I asked him to," I took one for the team, "So we didn't have to put you through the trouble."

"Violetta Isabella!" she gave me a swat with one of the pillows, "You should know better!"

"I've been told that a time or two before." Feisty old girl, I swear…

"Go," Mama allowed, "Go to him. He is…Il tuo cuore."

"I'm sorry," I apologized, "What's that?"

"Victor is your heart, Violet," she kissed my cheek and sent me off with my boys. Mama and I didn't get to talk as much as I'd like to. Hell, I hadn't seen her since I was having all those health problems. But when she and I did get to have these little talks, they spoke volumes…

 **A/N: And next week, we're going to have something else speak volumes, too. But you'll have to wait. But here we have it, friends! The long-awaited introduction of Celestino's mom. She is the cutest little thing in the world and I would take a bullet for her. Also, I understand that this is up HELLA late tonight, but it's been a day, so please be nice. K, love you. See you next chapter! xx**


	44. Green Light

**A/N: Hello, lovelies. Hey, I got something to talk to you about later. If you read me every day of the week, then you know already, but for those who don't, we'll talk at the end like we always do. Also, there's a lot of introspection in this chapter. Just a side note. Thought I'd share. Ok. Let's get to it.**

Oh, the streets of Rome. It's been so long since I've seen you. I'd like to preemptively apologize if I end up puking on you tonight. Celestino was totally cool with watching Yuri and Yurio. What he failed to remember was how Chris, Victor, and I were when we were left unattended in Rome. I know I was trying to distance myself from Victor as much as I could, but what the hell? I can allow myself one night of fun. Just my boys and me. It's been a while since the three of us have gone out like this. We could all stand the us time.

We had gone back to the hotel to get ready once Mama Cialdini was ok with us leaving. If she had her way, it'd be never, but she understood. But still, I needed to get ready. If I'm going out with my boys tonight, I needed to look the part. In all honesty, I kind of wanted to wear the dress I got at that thrift store in Moscow, but I got that as a costume. I'd be devastated if something happened to it before competition. Instead, I pulled out a classy black dress that held me in all the right places and made myself all cute. Although, my eyes were missing something. And I knew just where to get that missing piece.

Knock, knock.

"Hi, Violet," Victor glanced me over, "Wow. You look nice tonight."

"Thanks," I bit the inside of my cheek, "Actually, I need to have a word with your husband."

"My husband?" he gave me a look.

"Me?" Chris stuck his head out the bathroom door, "What do you need, Violet?"

"Do you remember when you took me to Cosmos the first time?" I asked, keeping a tight lip, "You told me one of your best kept secrets and said you'd kill me if I told anyone?"

"What's she talking about?" Victor's ears perked up. It was cute. Makkachin's did the same thing whenever someone mentioned bacon, "What secret?"

"It's nothing," Chris dragged me into the bathroom by my wrist, shutting the door tight behind me, "What about it?"

"I ran out of lash glue," I kept my voice down, "I was wondering if I could borrow yours."

"Of course," Chris got a little bottle out of his bag, "Give me your lashes. I'll put them on for you, too."

"Thank you," I gave him my lash case and shut my eyes, "Are you ever going to tell Victor about this?"

"The secret of my eyelashes is going to my grave," he pushed the strip onto my eye, "I love Victor. Don't get me wrong. But these bitches are how I hook the hot pieces of ass that I do. It'd be like finding out your favorite stripper stuffs his G-string. It'd just be disappointing."

"I just happened to peek behind the curtain," I giggled, "I won't tell about your roll of socks if you won't."

"Deal," Chris nodded, then realized what I just said, "Hey! I don't have that problem!"

"I know," I rolled my eyes, "Trust me, Christophe. I've seen you naked more than once. You act like I wouldn't."

"True."

I took a good look in the mirror. A full set of lashes. A thick line of eyeliner with wings sharp enough to kill a man. Dark, vampy, red lips. Hot damn, I looked like an escort! Not like the kind I used to be. The high-scale ones. If I didn't get my ass grabbed by a good-looking Italian man tonight, I'll be shocked. And a little disappointed. Nevertheless, that's not what I was going out for tonight. Tonight, I just wanted to hang out with my two best friends before we end up thrown into finals.

And that's exactly what we did. Our first club wrapped me in a hug of pounding bass that could send me over the edge if I'm not careful. Either way, tonight is going to be my last with them. Like this anyway. I'll still be around to get the boys for practice and general quality time and shit like that. Just not with their dad and their uncle anymore.

"Violet!" Victor yelled over the music, "Come get a drink with me!"

Like I was going to turn that down. A little bit of a buzz might make breaking up with him easier. At least I hope so. When we walked over to the bar, I had forgotten what it was like to hold Victor's hand. So strong and warm, but so soft and gentle. He's making a hell of a case for himself and doesn't even know it. And I hated it. Stop making this so hard for me, Victor.

"What can I get for you, tesoro?" the bartender winked at me, noticing the wedding ring on Victor's hand, but none on mine. Not on my left hand anyway. Our wedding ring was on the right one.

"A lemon drop," I ordered, "Make it strong."

"Si, signorina." I might walk out with his number tonight. Sorry, William from London. I mean, one in every port, but I'm no sailor, "And what about you?"

"Vodka martini please," Victor ordered, "Grazie."

The bartender put our glasses in front of us and I damn near downed mine in one drink. By the look on his face, he was impressed, "Did you taste that?"

"No," I shook my head, "Hit me again."

"On the house, principessa," he insisted, giving me another drink, "Be careful. I did make those strong."

"Grazie."

"Violet," Victor pulled me closer, wrapping his arm around my waist. If I was drunker, my head would be nestled in his shoulder, but I still had my inhibitions intact, "Please be careful. Don't drink too much tonight. We still have competition tomorrow."

And being the ever-worrying mother isn't helping things either. It's only making me want to drink more to numb whatever feelings I have left from our marriage, "I won't. I know we have competition tomorrow, but I have no intentions of getting wasted tonight."

"Good." Although, I may give it serious consideration.

"Hey!" Chris joined us at the bar, "Would you two quit hiding and come dance?"

We didn't have an option. I know Chris made it sound like we did, but his grip on us told a different story. I didn't care. I needed to be high on the flashing lights in the dance floor. And did they pull me into the most beautiful trance. I haven't felt this good in a long time. Chris and Victor were in their own little world and so was I. After more drinks, I really started to come out of my shell. I've been a professional dancer for years. I'm sure I can bring some of that to Italian soil. As if they've never seen me before.

Then, I fell into the arms of a man. A very beautiful man, I'm guessing (It's dark in this club. The occasional flashes of light didn't last long.). One that couldn't help but put his lips on me. I closed my eyes, getting completely lost in it. His kiss felt like a warm cup of tea on a cold morning. In fact, I could practically pinpoint that morning. It's definitely January. I'm sitting on the balcony of the old penthouse in St. Petersburg on an unseasonably warm morning and Victor's just coming back from competition. The long time apart would always bring us closer together as soon as he got home. And I wanted more of this kiss. Then, a realization struck.

I've felt this kiss before.

During that exact scenario.

When I opened my eyes, I stared up at the lips that were just on mine. Oh, shit...This isn't good. Shortly after he realized what had just happened, he bolted. Well, what the hell, Victor? You act like we had never done that before. We have. But he wasn't married to someone else when we did it. He was married to me. And I missed those days. To some extent, I understood why he took off, but I needed to get out of here before I broke down. I started to make a beeline for the front door.

"Violet...?" Shit. Just who I didn't want stopping me. Christophe grabbed me before I could get out the door, "What's the matter, mon ami? You seem off."

"I appreciate the thought, Chris," I swallowed the swelling lump in my throat, "But I just need to get out of here."

Because there is no nice way of saying I just had a magical kiss with your husband that, going by said kiss, still may be in love with me. I couldn't be in there anymore. And as much as the long walk back to the hotel would probably do me some good, my feet were killing me and my knees felt like they were about to give out on me. Images of that kiss burned in my mind like a branding iron and they wouldn't go away.

Why did the universe torture me so? Who did I kill in a past life? What kind of karmic retribution bullshit is this for? So, I had that tryst with Mike. I never involved the boys and Victor just happened to meet him. It's not like I went out of my way to introduce the two. Chris got a pass. He was there when I met Mike in the first place. Not to mention, they already knew each other. Biblically. Was that it? Was it me getting sloppy seconds from Chris twice? Was that why karma was bending me over?

Regardless, I got a cab and threw myself in the backseat. I just wanted to go to bed. I'm drunk, depressed, and torn in a million different directions. After competition tomorrow, I'm going to skip the awards banquet and go straight home. I couldn't stick around for fun and frivolity. Not without wanting to drown myself in the bottom of a bottle. The question was, which home would I run to? Would I go back to New York where Chris and Victor were just a floor under me? Would I go back to St. Petersburg where all I could ever see was him?

"I do my makeup in somebody else's car..." the radio played.

Someone's hotel room, technically. But go off.

"We order different drinks at the same bar..."

Yeah. Not much different, but I got it.

"I know about what you did and I want to scream the truth..."

A little on the nose, sister.

"She thinks you love the beach, you're such a damn liar..."

If by the beach, you mean Chris, then you might be right.

"Those great whites, they have big teeth. Hope they bite you. That you said that you would always be in love. But you're not in love no more."

Victor's got his kinky side. I've seen him with bitemarks on his collarbone before. But maybe he's not in love anymore...

"Did it frighten you how we kissed when we danced on the light up floor?"

WHAT SONG IS THIS? I sat in the back of my cab and listened carefully. Every word hit me in a different place and it hit me hard. For the first time all night, I finally let myself have that inevitable breakdown. This may have been a bad idea from the beginning, but the night may be turning around in a way I never would've expected. As much as the song felt like a dagger to my heart, it healed me all the same. Screw Jet Lag. I'm waiting for it. That Green Light. I want it.

 **A/N: It's Green Light by Lorde for those of you curious. I saw it once in a YOI CMV and sort of became obsessed with it. Not only is it a catchy little jam, it's very fitting for this situation. In fact, it may entirely be based on this song. Just wait until we see the retaliation. Because I got that planned already, too. :3**

 **Now, for the thing I wanted to tell you about. If you were around for Not a Perfect Fairytale, then you know what time of year it is again. November is rapidly approaching and for the entire month of November, I go dark here for NaNoWriMo season! What that means is I take the month off to write a 50,000-word novel. This year's going to be kind of a horror with a hint of dark romance. It'll be up on FictionPress when I'm done for those of you wanting to read it. When we come back in December, I'll give you a more proper synopsis on it. It already has a title. It's called Private Parts. If that's tantalizing enough for you. I'll give you a link when it's all done if you so desire. Now, I have tomorrow's chapter to finish outlining and probably get done today. Because I'm that level of wired right now where I could take on the world. We'll be back on December 5th. Wish me luck! See you next chapter! xx**


	45. Game Face

**A/N: …Did you miss me? Hi, friends. It is I. I have returned. It's been a little over a month since we last spoke. How are we doing? Good? I hope so. I was going to post on Yuri's (and my) birthday, but I lost serious track of time and hit the NaNo project instead. But! How about a little recap, yeah? I bet we could stand one of those. I mean, I haven't talked to you guys since October. But we'll get NaNoWriMo stats at the end for those interested. For now, though…**

 **When we last left off, we had been in the back of a cab with Violet in Rome. She's not feeling too hot, considering she just had a very heated and very passionate kiss with her ex-husband on the dancefloor of a local nightclub. And she's trying to process her feelings with a little help from Lorde and a catchy little tune called Green Light. So, now, it's the next morning and we got Grand Prix Finals. Let's get it, shall we?**

I never thought I'd feel this ready for a final. Especially after last night. Just when I think I'm over Victor, all it takes is one kiss. No. I'm not going to let it have that kind of hold on me. Although, I still had a really good buzz from that cab ride last night pumping through my veins. It's strange how inspiration strikes in the weirdest of places. Even now, I still had Green Light on a loop. I had finals in the bag. Granted, I had no choreography for Greenlight. I had a different song altogether for the end of my program. Originally, I was going to end it with S&M, but we all know how that ended. But my strength was in my improvisational skills. Victor always told me that.

But I wasn't performing quite yet. The babies had to go on first and I couldn't wait to see what mine had in store for me. Once Juniors were over, then it was the women's Grand Prix Final. Then, the men would close it out. I just hope my buzz lasts until then. Don't let this fizzle out, Violet. You're still going to kick ass and take names! Now, go out there and make me proud!

Ok. Maybe I could stand to come down a little bit. If I'm not careful, I'll end up pulling something. Given that I'm competing tonight, I can't afford an injury...Another injury. My ankle was still bothering me a little. Nothing a couple of aspirin can't fix. I'll be able to hide the bandage in my skate. As long as I don't screw up too much, I'll be alright. And as long as Celestino doesn't find out I'm skating on a bum ankle. He'd have my ass for that. Not nearly as bad as Mama, but Celestino had to get it from somewhere.

Knock, knock, "Violet! Wake up, bambina!"

Speak of the devil. I got up from my bed and opened the door, "Morning, Coach."

"Good morning," Celestino checked me over, "How are you feeling?"

"Physically?" I assumed, slinging my bag over my shoulder, "I'm fine."

"Bellissimo," he praised. But then, as we stood in the hallway, I noticed we weren't the only ones heading to the rink. Victor and I made eye contact for a split second. There goes all of my good mood. I felt the heat and the shame rising in my face, "Violet? Are you alright? You look like you're going to vomitare."

"I'm alright," I stared at my feet, fighting off my sudden nauseum.

"Mama!" Yurio latched onto my leg, anchoring me to the ground. Bless you, Yurio. This was why you're my favorite. Among other reasons, "Are you going to watch me skate?"

"Of course," I hugged my son, never wanting to let him go, "I wouldn't miss you or your brother's competitions for the world, let alone a Grand Prix Final. No matter what. Now, are you going to go out there today and make me proud, Dovahkiin?"

"I will if you will," he promised with a fire in his belly.

"And Yuri," I got down on his level, keeping my voice down, "We're going to wipe the floor with them, right?"

"Of course." That's my boy. I raised him well.

"Good," I kissed his little cheek, "Go back to your dad, ok?"

"Ok," Yurio ran back toward Chris and Victor, only for something...someone shiny to catch his eye, "Beka?"

Another little boy turned back, making my baby's face light up, "Yura?"

"Beka!" Yurio bolted for his best friend. Aww...That's so sweet, "Did you make it to finals?"

"Yeah," Otabek nodded, "I've been hearing a lot about you this season. I hope you know I won't go easy on you."

Yurio had a dirty grin on his face. Another one of those things he picked up from me, "I was hoping you'd say that."

Oh, yeah. He's ready for this. Although, out of nowhere, his father pulled me aside while the boys were distracted, "Um...Hi."

"Can we talk?" Victor asked. A very deadly question to be asking me. I wanted to distance myself from him and fortunately, I had an excuse.

"I can't," I shook him off, "I need to get some practice in."

"Violet..." he tried to stop me, but I wasn't having it.

"Yurio, come on," I called him over with Celestino following close behind me, "We need to get going. You'll see Otabek at the rink and after the competition."

"Ok!" Yurio waved behind him at his rival and followed Celestino and me into the elevator.

Of course, I didn't want to talk about last night. I knew that's what he was getting at. Right now, I didn't have the heart for that. Besides, I'm sure someone with the press saw what happened with us last night. It wouldn't surprise me if it was already splashed all over the internet. However, when I checked my phone, I had no notifications. Everything was quiet. Maybe I've finally fell off the tabloids' radar. A girl can hope, right? Because God knows once the season's over, certain things are going to come to light and I'm going to go right back into the shitstorm. It's really too bad I didn't have my favorite bodyguard with me. Although, I bet Celestino has a cousin or two that could watch my back if need be. I did miss Gene, though. I needed to give him a call...

Not right now, though. The kids are going to get home soon and I'd love to talk to Sophie again. She'd freak at something like this. When Gene and I took the kids to the rink, I'd be lying if I said she didn't show promise. With the right coach and a little practice, I bet Sophie would end up here by next year. And with the way Yuri took a shine to her, he'd make a hell of a coach, but he's too little. For now anyway. We'll wait until he's at least bumped up to the senior class. It's only another couple years.

When we got to the rink, I felt strangely motivated. No longer did I think I had this in the bag. I knew for a fact that I'd be taking home gold. I promise I'm going to take names and kick some ass. The adrenaline rush started to kick in. As much as I regret how things went down last night, maybe I needed something like that. A little something, something to put things into perspective. Skating has helped me come to terms with a lot of emotions that don't make sense at the time. And I'll feel a whole lot better once I've purged whatever I have bottled up. It'll shake something loose, I'm sure.

"Violet," Celestino gave me a nudge, getting me out of my headspace, "Are you still skating Jet Lag? I need to tell the sound guy."

"No," I shook my head, "I've already talked to the sound guy. He knows what to play. I texted him earlier."

"You need to stop making these last-minute changes to your setlist, Violet," he groaned, "I don't think I can keep up anymore."

"Sorry, Coach," I wrapped myself around his arm, trying to lessen the blow, "You'll see. I promise I'll do good."

"Alright," Celestino gave me a little kiss on the top of my head, having total trust in me, "Keeping a surprise from me? Not the wisest move, tesoro."

"You'll see," I reiterated, "And it's going to blow some people away."

And probably catch a certain someone off guard. It's scary how accurate the song is to our lives. One particular point caught so perfectly. Celestino let it go, "As long as it blows the judges away and you really make your comeback, that's all that matters."

"Do you think I'll get invited next year?" I wondered.

"Probably," he shrugged, "You've been a media jewel all off season. Any press can be good press if it's used properly."

That Celestino was a wise man when he wanted to be. Then again, he's also had to deal with me before Victor and I had the boys. If anyone could spin bad press into good press, it's Celestino. God knows he's had plenty of practice in the past eight months. As long as I had a spot on that list for next year, I think I'll be fine. A nice little jolt to restarting the career would be nice.

But first, we'd have to get through my babies skating first. In the deepest pit of my stomach, I had a feeling that the boys were pulling out all the stops for their final routines. I'll be alright. I've cried enough this season. I'm done with it. I'm over it! You hear that, universe? Nothing you can do anymore is going to make me emotional. I'm done with the tears. I'm done with the emotion. I'm now a stone wall. Come at me!

Great. Now that juju is in the universe. I'm boned.

Nope. I can do this. I can handle this. And Yurio's going first. I can almost guarantee his win. Whenever Yurio goes first, he sets the bar so high that no one can catch up to him. And he makes damn sure of that. The loud speaker called out for Yuri Plisetsky and I couldn't keep a smile off my face if I wanted to. That's _my_ baby. He may not have come from me, but there was no denying it. Yurio's _my_ baby.

A soft piano began as Yurio started to skate in. I knew this one. This was Hall of Fame. I used to play this all the time while I was working out. It was my motivation. This is one of those songs that always hit me weird. Depending on the mood I was in, it could either make me or break me. Right now, it gave me such a sense of pride in my baby that I could cry. But like I said, the universe can test me, but no more.

It's weird. I remember when he wanted to be on the ice so bad, he could taste it. And then, he ended up eating it, thinking he could run before he crawled. And all because he had a nightmare and couldn't sleep. I could still hear the haunting version of "The Dragonborn Comes" in my head whenever I looked at his face. Mama's Dovahkiin. He made me so proud. And I have no doubt in my mind that one day, he's going to break Victor's records. Or my records. And now…I held my breath as he jumped to attempt a triple toe loop…

Wait…

What the hell is he doing?

Yurio backed off the triple and made it a single. Baby, what are you doing? You don't need singles. You need bigger tricks. And you know you can do them. What's Celestino got you doing? Because this had him written all over it. Back off on the big jumps, Violet. You don't need them. Your technical skills and your footwork in your step sequence are what's going to win the judges over. You know you can nail the little jumps. I could hear him in my head. But then, I remembered what I used those little jumps for. They just pacified him. All the while I'm building up speed.

He's going for it, isn't he? He's pulling shit out of my book. Yurio's getting his speed and this little shit's going for a quad toe loop. It's not like he's never done it before. I've seen it with my own two eyes. He's letting the judges know that he's a little force to be reckoned with in his own right. He's more than just the son of ice-skating royalty. He's a skater all his own and in a class all his own. You set out to make me proud, Yurio and goddamn, you did it.

Wait for it…

The jump!

A little shaky on the landing, but for the most part, he got the rotations in and he landed on his feet. That's all that matters! As the song came to an end, Yurio was completely out of breath. And I couldn't blame him. That routine was high energy and he killed it. If he came out of this with a low score, I'm suing someone. I watched as he dramatically fell to the ice. Taking more pages out of my book, I see. Was Yurio going over old tapes? He had to have been. Because I did the same thing when I was tired at the end of a routine. I don't think the judges ever caught on, so they never docked me, but they thought it was part of the performance.

94.45! Yurio broke his own record at least. If I didn't know any better, I'd think my baby was crying. No, no. Mama couldn't have that. I met Yurio at the partition, "You ok, baby?"

"I've never gotten such a good score before," he wept in my shoulder, "And I didn't think I was going to land my toe loop."

"What were you thinking?" I chastised him, "You know those big jumps can be too much for you."

"Thank you, Violet," Celestino stepped in, "I couldn't have said it better myself. And I was just about to say it."

"But Mama," Yurio came back, "I just…"

"Hush," I stopped him, whispering in his ear, "I would've done the same thing, Yuri. I have no room to talk. And I'm so proud of you. You've worked hard to get where you are. I wouldn't blame you for shedding a few tears."

"Then, what's your excuse?" he put his little hand to my cheek.

"It's a mom thing," I assured, "If and when you ever have babies, you'll understand."

"You're so weird."

"I love you, too," I gave him a little kiss on his cheek, catching a bright flash out of the corner of my eye. Finally…Some good press for once.

 **A/N: So, hi! Yurio crushed today. I'm proud of him. And I also kind of want to cry. Next week, we're going to have baby Yuri going up. Why not today? Well, because I'm kind of tired and could stand to take the rest of the night off, if that's alright with you. And if it's not, that's too bad. Also, there's a little something, something off here. I'm not sure what, but there's something a bit off kilter. I don't like it. But for now, what about the other thing you may or may not care about?**

 **This year, my NaNo project came in at a little over 100,000 words. I'm rather proud of that. Since the original goal was only 50. I remember a couple years ago when I nearly quadrupled that. But that's here nor there. It only took me a week to hit the 50K mark. Word count is never anything I really need to worry about. But while we were gone, we also hit 300,000 views overall. Which is kind of nice in the three years I've been doing this. I didn't tell the others that, but that magic happened. Looks like I'm going to have to make another angel food cake. But we learned from last time. Don't overfill the pan. That shit rises and it'll double in size. Now, I actually do want some angel food cake. I got a Twinkie in the freezer, if that counts. I think I'm going to go indulge myself. See you next chapter! xx**


	46. We'll Be Missing You

**A/N: Hi, friends. Could you guys be nice this week? I'm having a lot of self-doubt this week…for the last couple weeks. And if you could shed a little bit of kindness this week, that'd be really cool. But last week, we had Yurio's final program. Now, let's see Yuri's, shall we?**

I didn't play favorites with my kids. Yurio was a hell of a skater, but his older brother could be a serious dark horse. Yuri's routines were always mesmerizing, no matter the music. Then again, Yuri had a secret weapon in the form of his coach. It's like when I first started skating. When I wasn't practicing with Celestino, I'd be practicing with Victor. He'd always help perfect my routines. And I could guarantee he did the same thing with Yuri.

Now, I could only imagine what song Yuri was breaking out for finals. If his past selections have been any indication, I'm almost certain it'll be another something to rip my heart out. I knew his theme was pure love, but I wasn't sure how far he was taking it. In fact, I don't think I see Yuri anywhere. He's supposed to be on shortly. Where the hell could he be?

"Violet," Victor grabbed me out of nowhere, "I need you."

"For what?" I worried, watching a bead of sweat rolling down his face while he caught his breath. This can't be good, "What's going on?"

"It's Yuri," he dragged me off outside the arena, "He's having…"

"A panic attack," I assumed. I found Yuri dangling his legs over a retaining wall, his head between his knees. I figured he wasn't good, but I didn't want to believe it, "I understand."

"What do I do?" Victor's elevated panic wasn't helping things, "I've tried everything."

"Give us a minute," I approached him slowly. Wow…I've seen Yuri bad, but I haven't seen him this bad in a long time. I kept my voice down with him. It's bad enough he's anxious. I don't want to scare the shit out of him, too, "Yuri…?"

"Mama?" Yuri's voice broke. Oh, baby. How long have you been this bad?

"Hi, sweetie," I sat next to him. And automatically, he was balled up in my lap, "You want to tell me what's going on? What's got you so jumpy?"

"I won last year," he shook, "Everyone expects me to win again. I haven't been doing great at my last few practices. And I don't want to let anyone down."

"Yuri," I cradled him, "No one's expecting anything from you other than a good show. If you can give them that much, you're golden. You don't need to worry about last year. You're a whole different person. That Yuri is dead and gone at this point. Think of who you've become. Even when you started skating, you were pretty wobbly. But then, you figured out how to stand. When you stood, you pushed yourself forward…and backward…And to the left and right. Do exactly that on that ice, but with a little more flair and you'll be fine."

I wasn't going to tell him how high Yurio scored. That would've taken him out of his head even more and that's not what we're trying to do here. He needed to get his head in the game. I have total faith in Yuri to do well. We're not focused on him winning. As long as he does his best, we'll still be proud of him. If he wins, that's just a nice byproduct.

Yuri started to pull himself together a little more, "You think I'll win this year, Mama?"

"You could," I figured, "But even if you don't, you got on that ice, didn't you?"

"Yeah, but…"

"Alright then," I stopped him, "Baby steps, Yuri. Get on the ice. When you do that, then you can push yourself forward. Then, when you've mastered forward, try backwards. You know your routines, baby. Like the back of your hand. You can do this. I know you can."

"Thanks, Mama," Yuri laid his head in my shoulder, "I think I can go on now."

"That's my boy," I lifted him down from the wall and got him on his feet, "Look at that, baby. You're already standing. Get some skates on your feet and we'll see how well you use those legs."

"Ok." There's what I was looking for. Yuri smiled at me, happy as hell to be able to skate again.

"How in the hell…?" Victor gave me a look, "Witchcraft, Violet. I swear, it's witchcraft."

"I know how to work the boys, Victor," I rolled my eyes, "I've told you this a million times."

"Teach me your ways," he begged.

"I don't think what I have can be taught," I walked away, not wanting us to be alone. I know. It's on my mind, too. And I can't stop thinking about it. And it won't get out of my head. It's burned in there for eternity and I'm still kicking myself for it. Even worse, I'm kicking myself for wanting more of it. I just want to pretend it never happened and move on. Alright, Yuri. You're ready. Let Mama see what you've got.

I raced back inside and stood at the partition. Please don't let Yuri's routine show me my still beating heart. That kind of strength isn't in me today and I still need to do Green Light. That's going to be the peak of my emotional and physical exhaustion. But then, it happened. A gentle orchestrated number began. I know this sure as hell wasn't what I thought it was. Because if it happened to be that very song, the Crown Jewels of Russia would have my knife shoes in them.

"I could stay awake…" Nope. Victor's getting castrated with my skates today, "Just to hear you breathing…Watch you smile while you're sleeping…While you're far away, dreaming."

No. That's bullshit, Victor. That's low and you know it. And to add to the bullshit on top of that, it looks like Yuri's using the same choreography we used, modified for one skater instead of two. Someone's looking to pull at my heartstrings. There's no way Yuri picked that on his own. His whole program was Victor. I Don't Want to Miss a Thing…Jet Lag…Anything else I'm missing? It's a good thing I haven't seen Victor skate all season. I didn't even know what his theme was.

I'd be lying if I said this song didn't bring up a lot of good memories, though. We were practically kids then, compared to now. I could hardly walk on ice, let alone skate. But Victor held my hand every step of the way. I'd get the same anxiety Yuri had, but I don't think Victor ever put two and two together to use the same things he used on me for Yuri. He'd take my hands, hold them over his heart, and say to follow that beat. That beat would get me through anything. I missed those days…And seeing our son like this is making it that much worse.

No. I promised myself. I'm not going to start crying. Not now. I'm done with the tears. I can now start to suppress those tears and continue being a bitter adult to develop ulcers and a drinking problem. Save this energy, Violet. Leave everything you have on the ice later. You'll be ok. As Yuri's routine came to a close, I put my hands on my chest. I felt my heartbeat twitch under my fingertips. This is the beat that's going to keep me going. This is the rhythm I skate to now. I'll be ok…

"Violet!" a sweet, familiar voice attached himself to my leg. When I looked down, there was a little Thai boy stuck to me. I thought I saw him here.

"Hi, Phichit," I got down to his level, letting him throw his arms around my neck. He had no idea how badly I needed that, "How are you, sweetie?"

"I'm on next!" Phichit squeaked, still ecstatic that he was this close to me, "Any advice? I'm kind of nervous."

"You got this," I gave him a nudge, "Are you kidding? I've seen what you can do, Phichit. You worked hard all season to get here. Get out there and crush for me, ok?"

"Yay!" he sang, "You said the thing!"

"What thing?" I wondered. I had a thing?

"You always told people you were going to crush on the ice," Phichit explained, "And now, you're telling me!"

"Alright, fanboy," I giggled, "Settle down. I'm not Violet Plisetsky, gold medal figure skater, to you. I'm Violet, your best friend's mom."

"I can't wait to see you skate for finals," he could hardly stand still, "What song are you doing?"

"I can't tell you that," I stopped him, "That's a surprise. But you'll see."

I looked up at the leaderboard. Yuri's in third. Yurio's still got the top spot. That's my baby. Speaking of my baby, my oldest one skated back to me at the partition, "Mama!"

"Hi, Yuri," I lifted him over, "You did so good, baby. You brought me to tears."

"Are you sure it was Yuri that did that?" I didn't even want to see his father's face right now. He's lucky my knife shoes were still in my bag.

"Positive," I replied coldly, focusing my attention back on Yuri, "Really, honey. It took a lot for you to get on that ice today and I couldn't be prouder of you. You may not have been able to beat Yurio this year, but…"

"There's always next year," Yuri smiled, "I'm glad that if anyone beat me this year, it's Yurio. I won last year. He can have a turn this year."

And in that moment, my heart melted. That may have been the sweetest thing to come out of Yuri's mouth ever. I hugged my son tight, "That's right."

"Come on, Yuri," Victor took his hand, "Let's go find Uncle Chris and have a seat, ok?"

"Good luck, Phichit," Yuri sent his best friend off as his name was called.

"Thanks, Yuri!" Phichit skated to the center and began his routine. Something from a Studio Ghibli movie, I think. At least it sounded like it.

The more I thought on it, the more I realized it. I've mothered a lot of kids because of my career in figure skating. I had Yuri and Yurio in the off season. That was a given. But I just gave a pep talk to Phichit. I've taken care of a scrape on Otabek's knee that he tried playing off once. He was bleeding through his pants. I couldn't leave that one go. Yurio brought him to me, knowing I had random medical knowledge bouncing around in my head. Have I just become team mom without knowing it? Not that I mind.

As everyone else went on, it was time for the announcements. Yuri kept his spot in third. Bronze wasn't too bad. It'd look nice with his gold from last year. Maybe next year, he'll take second and have a whole set. I'm so happy he had such a cavalier attitude about it. Because then, by a slight point margin, Otabek took second. Very well deserved. And only by half a point. His routine was pretty good, too. But unfortunately, it wasn't better than someone else we knew…

"In first place," the loudspeaker boomed, "With a score of 94.45, Yuri Plisetsky!"

"Mama…" Yurio pulled at the bottom of my jacket, "Did…Did he just say…?"

"Go on, baby," I nudged him back to the ice, "Go tell me what gold tastes like."

"I WON!" he squealed, racing out to the ice. If he's not careful, he may fall on his face and that's not very becoming of a Junior Grand Prix winner. Yurio's worked his ass off this year. It's a shame I only got to coach him a little bit. I really was looking forward to winning that gold with him. But the season's not over. We still had his special program to skate tomorrow. But that's tomorrow. In order to get to tomorrow, Mama still had to skate. And in an hour, it'd be time to shoot my shot.

 **A/N: Alright, my friends. I'm sorry that this is out so late, but it's nearly 11PM where I am right now and I have another update to work on tonight. That's cool. I drank a lot of energy drinks today. Not enough to make my heart go out, but enough to where I won't sleep tonight anyway. But on a more important note, YURIO'S TAKING HOME GOLD! I'm so proud of him. And even prouder of Yuri. Poor baby skated off a panic attack and was totally cool about not winning. And Yurio got to stand on the podium with his best friend and his brother. What more could he want?**

 **Now, next week, we're going to have Violet skating Green Light. That's going to be a little bit of a shit show, I foresee. Remember how in the actual anime, Georgi was crying while he skated? Yeah…I got a feeling that's going to be Violet's future. Alright then. I'm going to go. It's been nice seeing you all again. And I'll see you next chapter. xx**


	47. I'm Waiting For It

**A/N: Hi, friends! How about we get to today's update? Yeah? Well, it's gotten to the Grand Prix…How are we going to do? I can't wait to show you. Should I just shut up? Probably. I don't have too much to say, but we can talk later, yeah? Of course we can. Let's DO THIS!**

So…The Grand Prix Final…It has definitely been a while since I've done one of these. This was for all the beans, wasn't it? All of the anguish and exhaustion and heartache. It all led to this very moment. I could do this. I'm sure of it…Until I saw my competition. Look at them all. They were so much younger than I was. And gorgeous. It's like they rounded up a bunch of supermodels and gave them a pair of skates. Like Miss Universe on ice. They're probably more agile than I am, too. What was I thinking? Who was I even kidding? Should I even be here? Or was I just an old has-been trying to get something back that's long gone?

As long as I place, that's all that matters. Just let me place. If I can do that much, I'll be happy. I know that this preseason hasn't been too good personally, but let me have something professionally. I don't ask for much. Relax, Violet. The judges can smell fear. And I think some of my competition can, too. I can do this. If my asshole could unclench and I could get my head in the game right now, that'd be great. Although…It would've been really nice if Celestino wouldn't have drawn me last. What am I saying? I'll be fine.

"Mama!" my boys ran to me, attaching themselves to my legs. This was needed.

"Good luck!" Yuri's big, brown eyes twinkled. I see he was over losing to his brother.

"Davai, Mama!" Yurio still had his winner's glow. And I couldn't be prouder.

"Thanks, boys," I got down to their level, pulling them close to me. Maybe I could do this. But I couldn't help myself, "Is your dad around or are you two on your own?"

"Daddy and Uncle Chris are in the stands already," Yuri told me, "Do you want me to get them?"

"No," I stopped him, "It's ok. Besides, I have all I need right here."

"Thanks, Mama," Yurio put his head on my hip, "Can we stay down here?"

"If you want," I allowed. And so, I watched the other skaters perform their routines with my boys at my side. There was just one little problem.

My greatest fear had come to life. They were all so good. Much better than I was. That's it…It's true. I really was the washed-up has-been. I couldn't breath out here anymore, so I bolted to the women's locker room. What was I doing here? I should've known better. This was never going to work out. What a waste of time. All of this pretending that I got back into skating because I missed it. No. It was all because I was too scared to move on with my life. I cling to a past I'll never see again, so why do I bother?

"Mama…?" a soft little voice broke up my light sobs.

"Yurio," I wiped my eyes, careful not to smudge my makeup and cleared my throat, "What is it? What do you want?"

"Wait…" Yurio sat next to me, "Why have you been crying?"

"Don't worry about it," I settled him, "It's nothing."

"No, it's not." Damn his intuition. Yurio climbed into my lap and wiggled his way into my heart, "Mama, we're going to leave Rome with matching medals, remember? We pinky promised."

"We did," my voice broke. No. Lock that shit up, Violet. Not in front of Yurio, "But what if I don't hold up my end of it?"

"There's always next year," he shrugged. But then, Yurio pulled his medal out from his shirt and took it off, "Or you can have mine."

I did all I could from not bawling right then and there. Instead, I hugged my baby tight, swallowing the swelling lump in my throat, "Thank you, baby. But I think I'd much rather get my own, if that's ok with you."

"That's even better," Yurio approved, "Because…I really like my medal."

"That's your medal," I assured, standing him back up, "You know, you didn't have to do this."

"Yeah, I did," he corrected me.

"But you shouldn't have to," I retaliated, "That's the thing. You're still so little, Yuri. You don't need to be the one to take care of me."

"It's ok," Yurio promised, "But we're still going to have the matching medals, right?"

"Yours will sit next to mine on the fireplace," I swore, kissing his forehead, "Now, go on. Get out of here before someone sees you."

"Three other skaters saw me come in here," he scoffed, "I just said I was looking for my mom. And here we are."

"Yurio," I let out a heavy sigh, draping an arm around him, "You're too much. Did you know that?"

"No, I'm not." He gets that from being around Victor so much. I wasn't going to tell him that, though. He had skates within arm's reach. Not happening.

"Violet," Celestino called into the locker room, "You're on in five minutes! Come on!"

"Coming!" I had gotten dressed and I was ready to tear up the ice as much as I could to the best of my ability. I had this. Stay strong, Vi. You can do this.

Then, I remembered what my routine was. Green Light was going to destroy me. And idiot me was using it for a FINAL?! AM I HIGH? Actually, that'd take some of the edge off right now. I could stand some of those cookies that Nat would make once in a while. Even a quick shot of Russian vodka would do me wonders. But the last thing I needed to do was get on the ice drunk. Sure, I know my way around a rink, but I needed that balance.

I skated to the middle of the rink as the crowd became white noise in my head. They had no idea what was about to happen. Nobody did. Not even Celestino. I had to come up with a routine on the spot. But I did have a little practice in St. Petersburg. My strength was always in my improv skills. Besides, now was the time I got to have my retaliation. For everything Victor threw at me this season with Yuri's routines. For everything he did despite my reactions. For I Don't Want to Miss a Thing. For Jet Lag…It was time to expose the son of a bitch.

But as soon as that music started, I was crying in the back of a cab again. I could pretend to be mad at him all I wanted, but there was something else here. It wasn't anger. Instead of using this routine to get back at him…I was coming clean. I missed him. I'd do anything to get him back, but I knew better. I'd never get him back. No matter what Mama Cialdini says. Sorry, Mama. But it's true. He's not going to come back to me. Whatever looks you thought he was giving me was something else.

I mean, I had myself. And that should be enough, right? But if that's the case, why am I so empty? Don't get me wrong. I don't have a problem being by myself and doing shit on my own. But goddamn, it hurts to be lonely. When I'm lonely, I get depressed. When I get depressed, I isolate myself. It's a vicious cycle. I'm never going to get him back, am I? Not in the way I need him. That one kiss brought so many feelings back that I thought I had suppressed deep enough. Apparently not. Because they're coming back like Mentos in a bottle of diet Coke.

 _Honey, I'll come get my things, but I can't let go…I wish I could get my things and just let go…_

He's got Chris. He's got the boys. What's Victor need me for? Because of me, he got what he always wanted. I just wish I had a contingency plan for something like this. Even skating hurt me once in a while. Now, the verse I really wasn't looking forward to. At least I already had some moves from my S&M routine I could put to good use. If Madame didn't see them at least once, she'd kill me when I got back.

 _Sometimes I wake up in a different bedroom…_

 _I whisper things, the city sings them back to you…_

My time with Mike wasn't always bad, but it wasn't exactly ideal either. He wanted way too much control. When I was still with Victor, we had an even split on everything. We alternated on who would discipline the boys or who would get to go out and be a grown up for the night, if need be. There was never any power struggle with us. But then, I had Mike. Or, should I say, Mike had me? In many ways. Any way he wanted me…Let's get that out of my head.

Because now, there was one move I had to nail. If I didn't, my nail in the coffin move wouldn't register. It had to. Although, it'd be more poetic justice if I fell from it. Maybe I should intentionally fall, but I wanted to get those points in. No. I'll just land it better than he ever could. I got my speed up and did my jump. With one…Two…Three…Four spins and a landing so clean, people could eat off it.

There. My green light has come and gone. And the raucous applause shook the stadium. I think I did pretty well. I'm out of breath to beat all hell, but as long as I put on a good show, that's all that matters. And that I get a well-deserved spot on the podium. In that moment, things were so surreal. The loud cheers from the crowd were silent in my head. It's not like my hearing was shot. Things were just…They were quiet. Like I had been put into a very zen state in my head. My soul felt so much lighter. I fell to my knees on the ice, letting the cool surface settle my nerves. My god, I needed that. Welcome home, Violet. Say all you want about how the ice hurts you, but you know damn well that this is, was, and always will be home to you.

Speaking of…I think I might have seen Victor and Chris run off. While the judges were tallying scores, I couldn't help but follow them. I didn't care about what they had to say. I needed to know what I just did to Victor. The two of them sat on the same retaining wall outside where Yuri had his mini breakdown. Color me curious.

"Christophe, we need to talk," Victor began, his voice shaking. Oh, shit…What did I do?

"What's the matter, mon coeur?" Chris worried, trying to get his husband to calm down. Because his bitch ex-wife may have shattered his heart.

"I cheated on you," Victor was blunt. Cut and dry blunt.

And Chris had no idea what to take away from that, "What do you mean, you cheated on me? Victor, you're one of the most faithful people I've ever met in my life."

"And I cheated on you," Victor repeated, tears swelling in his eyes, "When we went out last night…Then."

Chris started to realize that his husband wasn't joking. Victor really cheated on him. And now, I felt even worse, "What was his name?"

"Um…" Victor pulled himself together a little, "Violet."

"Oh!" Chris let out a heavy sigh of relief, "Victor, that's not cheating. That's Violet."

"I don't think you understand," Victor choked out, "Her entire routine…I…"

"There you are!" Celestino grabbed my hand, "Come on, Violet! They're just about to announce the winner!"

Dammit, Celestino. I had bigger fish to fry. But I also still had to keep up appearances. So, I went back inside whether I wanted to or not and headed back into the arena. I watched as third and second, each of them hailing from Italy and Russia, respectively, skated up to the podium. There were four other skaters that could take that number one spot.

"And our winner of this year's Women's Grand Prix," the announcer called out.

"Here it is…" Celestino held me up.

"Violet Plisetsky!"

Wait…What? Did he just call my name? I am still Violet Plisetsky, right? All of a sudden, I felt very lightheaded. I might faint. I think I'm going to pass out. But luckily, I had a Celestino to catch me, "Go up there, Violet. You won!"

"Yeah…" Something about my win didn't feel right. But I still skated up to that podium and took my hard-earned medal. I did it…I won. If that's the case, why did I have a hard time with a genuine smile? And even worse, why did I feel so empty?

 **A/N: Violet wins! Yay! But she's also in need of a hug. Chris and Victor's marriage might be falling apart. But…As awesome as Violet's win is, can we take a second to appreciate Yurio in this chapter? He's such a little peanut when he wants to be. I love him. His bit with the medal damn near made me cry. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm tired as balls and I think I'm going to go to bed. See you next chapter! xx**


	48. The Promise Doesn't Get Me High Anymore

**A/N: Hi, friends! I thought about posting this yesterday, considering it was Victor's birthday. But that may be next year. If I'm still posting for YOI next year this time around. I know I'm going to close out this series next week. But for now, I'm going to shut up and we're going to get some update going. Yeah? How's that sound? Pretty good. Let's do this then.**

What to do, what to do…I didn't have to skate again until the special programs. Primadonna for Yurio and another round of Lady Marmalade for me. Or I could ask the Madame for Toxic Circus…Cross that bridge when we come to it. Since I won, I'm kind of obligated to do a special program. But for now, I could check out. A part of me wanted a celebratory drink, but the other part of me wanted to stay in my hotel room. My bathtub looked so inviting. What I wouldn't give for a nice, long soak in some hot water and a good charcoal mask right now.

Unfortunately, I didn't have that kind of time. As much as I wanted to throw in the towel, I should still probably go watch Chris and Victor skate, too. I haven't all season and I felt like such an asshole for it. If I was going to see one performance, it might as well be the Grand Prix Final. They both made it. I've been busy, ok? Busy actively avoiding Chris and Victor. Especially now, but there's no sense in running. Although, it would've been nice to hear the rest of what Victor had to say to Chris before I had to go on. Celestino dragged my ass away, though. I have my ways…

Instead of running, I went into my bathroom and cleaned up my smudged makeup as much as I could. I didn't have my remover wipes (I let Yurio borrow them and I have yet to get them back) and all I had at my disposal was warm water. I can always touch it up if need be. Sure, my skills weren't great, but they weren't garbage either. I could manage. After I cleaned myself up, I kept my Green Light costume on and headed back out. Alright, Violet. You can do this. No more sadness. No more tears. You'll be alright.

Holy shit. I forgot the kind of crowd Victor Nikiforov could bring in. Just a little bit bigger than mine. Down by the partition stood my little boys with my coach while their father and their uncle are likely getting ready. Might as well stand with the rest of the family. I walked down to the rink and fell into Celestino's shoulder blades face first.

"Ciao, Violet," Celestino knew. He knew I wasn't ok, "Come va?"

"Emotionally drained," I admitted.

"But then, my voice made its way to smaller ears. Yurio wrapped his arms around my waist, not wanting to let go, "Hi, Mama."

"Hi, sweetheart," Yurio felt a bit shaky. I don't like this. I got down to his level, "Hey…What's the matter, Yurio? What's going on?"

"Victor and Uncle Chris were yelling at each other in the locker room," he told me, "I've never heard them fight like that."

"Yuri…?" I looked over to my oldest clinging to Celestino, "What about you? Doing ok?"

Yuri nodded. It's good that he's ok. It's not good that he wouldn't say it out loud. When Yuri got to the point where he couldn't speak, that's when he scared me the most. So, Celestino did the talking for him, "He's alright, Violet. He wasn't for a minute, but then, it was like a switch went off. He's fine."

"Yurio," I spoke softly, "Can you give us a second?"

"Yeah," Yurio understood. He knew about Yuri as much as the rest of us did. But Chris and Victor were too wrapped up in their own calamity to take care of the babies right now. It's a good thing they had me.

"Come here, Yuri," I insisted, motioning for him. Without another thought, Yuri threw himself into my chest. I cradled him close and ran my hand down his back, "It's ok, baby. Just because they're mad doesn't mean they're mad at you. You and your brother did nothing wrong. If they want to blame anyone, they could blame me."

"No," Yuri spoke meekly. I'm just glad he spoke at all, "You didn't do anything wrong either."

"Oh, honey," my voice broke. No, Violet. Bottle that shit up. Not in front of Yuri, "I might have done something very wrong. But that's a long story you don't need to worry about. I appreciate the sentiment, though."

"Mama," Yurio stood on the sidelines, approaching slowly, "Do you…Do you think I…"

"Come here," I gave him my other arm and to no surprise, Yurio snuggled right into my ribs, "No matter what happens, boys, you know that they love you more than anything. And that I love you. And if you two need anything, you know where to find me."

"Can we stay with you when we go back home?" Yurio asked.

"You know where I live," I reminded him, "You know that you two have a bedroom in my condo. Anytime."

"Thanks, Mama."

"Thank you, Mama…"

"You're welcome," I gave them one kiss each and the lights started to dim. Looks like I missed opening ceremonies. Because Christophe Giacometti just had his name called over the PA.

Wow…This sounded weird. When Chris does a routine, it's usually very slow and seductive like he was going to take someone right then and there on the ice. I've never heard him skate techno like this. Alt-pop, maybe? Whatever it was, it's angry. And I kind of like it. Good for you, Chris. Way to branch out this year.

 _Nothing is fun._

 _Not like before._

 _You don't get me high anymore…_

Huh…Interesting.

 _Used to take one…_

Chris lands a single toe loop. A little slow, but alright. But then, his speed kicked up.

 _Now, it takes four._

And there's a quadruple toe loop. Someone is NOT happy with his husband. I can tell that much. This was just as much directed at Victor as what Green Light was. When Chris hit the ice, his routines always felt like gentle lovemaking. The kind where the cuddling was intense and things weren't too crazy, but the nice, slow rhythms put them at ease. This? This was straight-up hate sex. This was a bad night turning into wild, passionate, angry sex that would have the neighbors knowing their names by the end of it.

…And a part of me felt guilty. Did I do this? I did what I could. I tried distancing myself from Victor as much as I could. I wasn't going to go out with them. I was just going to call it a night and go to bed. Maybe stick around with Mama Cialdini for a while, because…Well…I haven't seen Mama in ages and I missed her dearly. But no. Chris and Victor wanted to drag me out and have fun. Where did that get us? I ruined their marriage.

After a few more performances, I got kind of bored. I needed a distraction to get me out of my head. JJ's narcissism wasn't helping. It only pissed me off and made me want to punch someone. Mainly him. It'd be nice to get my aggression out on JJ, but he didn't deserve that. Regardless, something to take my mind off the world would be nice. And none of these guys were doing much for me. That is…Until one diva in particular stepped onto the ice, getting the crowd all riled up. Goddammit, Victor…You haven't lost your touch.

Victor skated a few laps, fanning the flames of the crowd's excitement. He sure knew how to work them. He hadn't even started his routine yet. But then, with just a lift of his finger, he got them to quiet down again. Skating one more lap, he saw me at the partition. And gave a signal to the guy in the sound booth. Without another thought, Victor blew a quick kiss to Chris, making him smile a bit…And stretched his hand out to me.

 _I'm sorry, but I'm just thinking of the right words to say…_

What the hell was he thinking?

 _I know they don't sound the way I planned them to be._

And what was I thinking? I trusted him, so I went along with it, accepting his offer. Just when I think he was hoping to hold hands for a moment or two…Victor lifted me over the partition, knowing damn well I had my skates on yet. What in God's green Earth was this man thinking? He got me on the ice and gave me one little spin.

 _But if you wait around a while, I'll make you fall for me._

 _I promise…I promise you, I will…_

"Victor," I freaked, "What the hell are you doing?"

"Follow my lead," Victor insisted, "Please."

"You realize this could get you disqualified, right?"

"I don't care."

This man was insane. One hundred percent, certifiably insane. And exhausting. Exasperating…And the best friend I will ever have, "Ok."

And so, Victor threw his routine out the window. Whatever he had been planning since the beginning of the season to close out his return with was done. The crowd had gone completely apeshit by this point. Not only were they getting Victor Nikiforov, but Violet Plisetsky, too. And in Victor's…our routine…He told me all he needed to say.

Not only was I missing him, but he was missing me even more. In the lines of the song and the movements of his body, Victor poured his heart to me. This whole routine was for me. The reassurance that he'd always have my back. No matter what. No matter his mood, my mood, or the way the world is at any given moment. And this was the only way he could tell me that we'd both understand. The two of us finished strong with a triple lutz each and Victor, being the cheeky little shit he is, decided to finish off with a double toe loop. The one trick he knew pissed me off more than life itself. But by the time the song finished, the two of us had come together again. We both dropped to our knees and catching me totally off guard, Victor pulled me into an incredible kiss that may have rivaled our night in Rome.

"I'm so sorry, Violet," Victor held me as the crowd roared around us, "I'm so sorry…"

"What are you apologizing for?" I worried, lifting his chin up, his eyes sparkling with tears, "So, you had a momentary lapse the other night. It's no big deal. I know you meant no harm by it."

"No," he threw his arms around me, trying his damnedest to snap me in half, "I'm sorry I ever let you go…"

Victor had to carry me off the ice. I was too busy bawling in his shoulder. Not that it was much of a problem with the audience. They all saw it as part of the routine. But now, I understood Victor's kiss at the beginning. His kiss to Chris…Was it a kiss goodbye? Because I didn't want to come between them. I didn't want to be that guy. Regardless, Victor brought me back into the locker room, letting me cry it out. This was why I loved him.

"VITYA!" And there goes our moment, "KAOGO CHERTA VY DUMAYETE, CHTO SDELALI (WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?!)?!"

"Showing one of the loves of my life just how much I love her," Victor answered so nonchalantly, running his hand up and down my spine, "And in the only way I knew how to do it. Why?"

"YOU COULD'VE BEEN DISQUALIFIED, YOU IDIOT!" Yakov continued his tirade, "YOU COULD'VE…!"

"Yakov…" Victor cut him off, keeping his voice down, "If you don't mind, could you wait to bitch at me later? Violet and I are both a bit fragile and I'd really appreciate the time alone."

It was rarely like Yakov to show compassion, but for now, he pushed the vein back in his forehead, "Later then…"

"Thank you," Victor smiled, "Now, onto you, young lady…"

"Me?" I wondered, "What about me?"

"You didn't happen to have any plans for tonight, did you?" he asked, running his thumb under my eyes.

"The banquet's tonight, Victor," I reminded him, "Why?"

"I was wondering if you could accompany me," Victor requested, "If that's not too much trouble."

"What about Chris?" I pointed out, "Are you two still fighting?"

"We never really were," he let out a heavy sigh, "He understands, though. He knows what he and I have should be done in moderation. I can't give him what he needs and he can't give me what I need. Physically, things are great. Emotionally, though…It's different. He and I were talking and we think it'd be best for everyone if we go back to our original agreement. Chris comes over once or twice a month for a friendly hello and we leave it at that. I love him. There's no denying that. And he loves me. But for the sake of everyone involved, you included, you need me. And I need you. The boys need you. There was too much distance with us and you were living above us. So…Let's start with the banquet and see where it goes from there?"

Victor had left me speechless. We never should've risked our relationship on a bet. But I could get one thing out, "Absolutely."

"Vitya," Yakov came back in, "Come on. You've won. You need to get your medal."

I don't know why I'd be surprised.

 **A/N: Yay! Victor and Violet are getting back together. They're so cute together. And before I get the bitching, Victor said it all. With him and Chris, it was always a physical thing. Like eating ice cream for every meal. But sooner or later, you need to eat some real food before your body starves to death. Also, if you're curious, the songs used in this chapter were:**

 **You Don't Get Me High Anymore – Phantogram (although, there's a really killer cover of it by Three Days Grace).**

 **And!**

 **The Promise – When in Rome (although, there's a really killer cover of it by New Found Glory).**

 **Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to bed. Leave your questions, comments, and concerns in your reviews. And I'll see you next year…Chapter! xx**


	49. All in the Family

**A/N: Hello. Good morning. Well, I'm starting this in the morning. I have a freshly cracked Red Bull at my side. And I'm prepared. Shall we then?**

"Mama," Yurio sat perfectly still for me as I finished getting him ready for our special program.

"Yeah, baby?" I continued with the intricate braiding on the side of his head, still buzzing inside from Victor's…our final performance.

"Are Victor and Uncle Chris going to et divorced?" It's always nice when this kid threw me curveballs like that. I didn't even know. Victor never told me that far in advance. Chances are, that kiss was the nail in the coffin of their marriage. But Chris and Victor understood. Chris tried to settle down with Victor, but to no avail. Chris is too much of a free spirit.

"I'm not sure, Yuri," I tied the last one off. The little braids made him look like he had an undercut. Honestly, it worked for him, "Probably."

"Does that mean me and Yuri have to pick which one of them we have to live with?" Yurio asked, having been through this song and dance before.

"That choice has already been made for you," I assured, "You're both staying with Victor."

"Well…Lesser of two evils, I guess."

I smiled at my beautiful son in the mirror, "Trust me, Yuri. There won't be any evils."

"What do you mean?" Yurio stared me down in confusion.

"Sweetheart," I kissed his little, round cheek, "More than likely, I'll be moving back in."

"Really?" he jumped up, throwing his arms around my neck, "Are you really moving back in, Mama?"

"Only if Victor says it's ok," I stipulated.

"If he doesn't," Yurio pouted, "I'll never forgive him. You shouldn't have gotten another condo in the first place."

"You're right," I hugged him tight, a lump swelling in my throat, "And for that, I'm so sorry. Can you ever forgive me?"

He was completely dumbfounded. In Yurio's eyes, I could do no wrong. He held me on the same pedestal Victor did. I could see it in his big, green eyes. He had no idea how to react, "Of course, Mama."

"Thank you, Dovahkiin," I pulled him into my lap, "Are you ready?"

"I think so."

"Alright," I stood Yurio up on his feet and followed shortly after, "What do you say we go kick some ass?"

"You said a bad word, Mama."

"Mama's a grown-up. She can say bad words."

"Ok," Yurio was suddenly all full of energy. That's my boy. We were both as ready as we were going to be. He looked cuter than hell. I looked fantastic. It was time for us to become the primadonnas we were here to be.

The rink had gone dark as we skated out to the middle. That was the thing about the special programs. They were nothing but vanity. Perfect, considering our subject matter. But then, the song started. First, Yurio's spotlight flipped on. Then, he threw it over to me, making the crowd go nuts. They had no idea what they were in for. In the first half of the song, I had two triples and a double planned. Yurio had two doubles and a surprise triple. That's just the first half! If we're both not totally beat, we were both going for a quad lutz at the end.

The special programs were nothing but the skaters putting on a show. A lot of skaters I knew used this as a time to feed their egos. A certain Canadian asshole came to mind. But this particular special program wasn't for our egos. It wasn't even to give the good people of Rome a show. This was just me screwing around on the ice with my son. And to a song that started him on his ice-skating career in the first place. As long as he didn't hurt himself on the final quad. That may put a damper on the evening festivities.

We used each other to build up our speed, preparing for our grand finale, spinning each other around. Once in a while, I'd toss Yurio in the air only for him to land on his feet. Then…We were ready. Yurio and I knew how we were doing this. A countdown from three. We'd always count in Russian at practice. Well…Here goes nothing. Tri…Dva…Odin! A little sloppy on the landing, but we still landed it, dammit! And I'd expect nothing less from us. As the song came to its end, Yurio jumped into my arms and we fell to the ice.

"Mama…" Yurio panted in my ear.

"Yeah, baby?" I sighed out, feeling his pain. Our landings took a lot out of us.

"What should we do next year?" I love this child so much.

"Let's get off this season's ice first," I insisted, "Then, we'll worry about next season."

"Ok," Yurio laid his head in my shoulder, letting the roar of the crowd turn to white noise, "Good. Because I don't want to start until tomorrow."

I love my one-track minded son. Even though he's exhausted, he still wants to skate. I admire his drive, but it'll end up killing him. The two of us skated off the ice and took a seat on one of the benches. Where was the father of my adoptive children? I needed a shoulder to lay on, too. By the looks of it, he's probably getting ready for his won special program. So, in times like these, a certain Italian man needed to be my leaning post. And guess who I happened to sit next to?

"Well," Celestino put his arm around me, "Ciao, Violet."

"I'm tired, Coach," I groaned, "Do I have to skate anymore?"

"No," he kissed my sweaty forehead, "You're done. You can take a break for a while."

"Awesome," I wanted a nap and a hot tub. Not necessarily in that order.

But then, things got quiet again. The Men's Grand Prix winner this year was about to take center ice. Why did I have a feeling this was going to hurt me? But in a good way? Or it could possibly be painfully adorable to the point where I may have to hit something. Victor could be kind of a wild card like that. Especially with the way he is now. I couldn't get a good read on his current mood.

 _My lover's got humor…She's the giggle at a funeral._

Huh…Interesting. Victor doesn't often do somber routines, but this one seems…Different. HOLD THE GODDAMN PHONE. The song…The choreography…Something about this felt weirdly familiar. Like this has happened before…VICTOR NIKIFOROV, YOU PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE LITTLE SHIT! USE YOUR OWN CHOREOGRAPHY!

When I started skating by myself again, everything was nice and quiet in our home rink in St. Petersburg. I was alone with my thoughts and was in a state of pure bliss. This was before I decided to make my comeback. Around the time I even gave a comeback consideration. Was that what this was all about? That's exactly what it was. Not just me making a comeback, but my comeback being the rebirth of Victor's career, too. I remember him coming in after I finished the song. We danced together that night. Suddenly, I could feel my heart ready to burst. That was my husband. I married him right here all those years ago. And I should know better than to doubt Mama Cialdini.

After an uneventful post season banquet (and my annual drunk hit on by one Jean-Jacques Leroy), Chris and Victor parted with a kiss at the airport and the four of us flew back home. It's weird. I thought Chris was going to take my condo, but he said he had some things to take care of in Switzerland and family to see, so we gave him his space. I knew he was going to miss having his regular booty call on hand, but he knows how the arrangement goes. And he's welcomed any time.

A few weeks after we got settled back in, Victor and I realized we were living on bare cabinets. Sometimes, it was nice to stay in and…Well…We do need to eat to survive, so the two of us went to the grocery store together. Yuri and Yurio were off playing with their new little friend. Thank God I have the sweetest bodyguard in the world that was totally willing to take the boys off our hands for a bit. Yuri and Yurio did take quite the shine to Sophie when Gino and I took the three of them skating last. I'm sure those two were begging for another trip to the rink. My boys were workaholics like their mother and father before them.

We didn't need all that much. Yuri's shrimp chips. Yurio's apple juice (and coffee creamer…Oops. Mama may have made him a little caffeine addicted. It's only a matter of time before he starts slamming Red Bull.). A gallon of milk. Aside from that, we really don't need all that much. Just some trivial things. But none of that mattered. It was when we got to the register that things got interesting. Sometimes, Victor and I needed to speak in code just to keep our conversations private. Or in this case, in a different language.

"Violet…" Victor gave me a nudge, pointing at the cover of a certain sports publication. One that was just slandering my…well…at the time, it wasn't exactly my good name. But things got better! Although, instead of me falling over myself, trashed out of my skin, it was a shot of Victor pulling me over the wall at Grand Prix Finals. My heart melted, "Ty vidish' eto (Do you see this?)?"

"Aww…" I gushed, "Eto my…My takiye milyye (It's us…We're so cute.)."

"Vot tak (That's right)," Victor smiled, kissing my cheek, "Prodolzhit…Prochitay eto (Go on…Read it.)."

"Excuse me," the kid behind the counter asked, "Do you speak any English? Because I may have to get my manager."

"We both do," I confirmed, thumbing through Skate Weekly Magazine. And my name was in a big, bold headline across a two-page spread. Huh. Good for you, Doyle Wallace. You deserve it. Just like how your career deserves to be supported. I dropped the magazine on the belt.

"Skating enthusiast?" he tried making small talk. That's cute.

"You could say that," I smiled. Do I be that guy and say that's us on the cover or do I let him figure that one out for himself?

"Hold on," the cashier stopped us, shooting glances at the man standing next to me, "Are you…You have to be."

"Is there something on your mind?" Victor wondered.

"Are you…" he twitched a little, "I'm sorry. I don't gush often, but are you Victor Nikiforov?"

"No," Victor lied through his teeth, "You have me mixed up with another painfully attractive Russian man."

"You are Victor Nikiforov!" the kid freaked, "Oh my god, I'm such a fan!"

"That's very kind of you," Victor soaked up the attention like a sponge. Diva.

"And if you're Victor Nikiforov…" he looked over to me, "Then that must mean…"

"Yeah," I caved, patiently waiting for the same love and admiration. Or the deep loathing that a lot of Victor's fans gave me. Either or.

"You're his assistant!" Shot through the heart…And the cashier's to blame, "You must be living the dream, being around him all the time! I'd kill to be in your position!"

Awesome…Gold medalist and I'm his damn assistant. Fortunately, my alleged boss was kind enough to step in, "She's not my assistant. She's my partner. And the best one I've ever had."

Alright. I'm back to being a puddle again, "OH! You're Violet Plisetsky!"

There's what we were looking for, "Yes, I am."

"I'm so sorry," he melted, "I'm so, so sorry. You just…You look so different than you did at the beginning of the season. It's good to see you're doing better. Congratulations on the Grand Prix win!"

"Thank you." Victor and I gave the kid a quick picture and the two of us headed back home. As soon as we walked in our condo, I jumped over the couch with the copy of Skate Weekly Magazine in my hand. Color me curious.

 ** _From Russia with Love: The Rise and Fall and Rise of Violet Plisetsky_**

 _By Doyle Wallace_

Alright. Straightforward. All business. I like you, Doyle Wallace.

 _Over the past year, professional figure skater Violet Plisetsky has been the apple of the tabloids' eye. After being spotted falling over drunk in seedy S &M clubs, with her ex-husband's new husband, nonetheless, her squeaky-clean divorce at the end of last season, and becoming a complete and utter recluse, she was ripe for the picking. The cherry on top? Her entire program, dripping with sex and sin, hiding something deeper from the rest of the world. Her overwhelming emptiness. Many journalists, myself included, have been able to benefit from this._

Alright, Doyle Wallace. You may want to back your ass off my dick here.

 _However…_

You bet your ass, however…

 _With Ms. Plisetsky being such a media pariah, she has also made one of the most incredible comebacks anyone has ever seen. Being able to watch her go from gutter to gold medalist again has been a roller coaster. And personally, I couldn't be proud prouder of her. This past season didn't just mark the return of Violet Plisetsky. It was the rebirth of one of the greatest partnerships to ever grace the sport. Hopefully, she will not be skating alone next season._

 _After meeting both Victor Nikiforov and Violet Plisetsky, the two of them are individually some of the biggest powerhouses in the skating world, with their children also making a name for themselves. I have from a reliable source in the Junior Grand Prix that Yuri Nikiforov and Yuri Plisetsky will not only be skating in next year's competition, but are possibly considering choreographing each other's programs._

Phichit Chulanont, if figure skating doesn't work out for you, you'd make one hell of an investigative journalist. Because I can just about bet the family farm that Phichit is Doyle Wallace's reliable source.

 _I hope we see bigger and better things from the entire Nikiforov-Plisetsky family next season._

"Hey, Victor!" I called out, "Could you get me my phone?"

"Sure," Victor came back with my phone in hand, "And the guy at the grocery store thought you were _my_ assistant."

"You do come in handy," I teased, "Can I keep you?"

"I insist upon it," he sat on the arm of the couch, "Who are you calling?"

"You'll see," I assured, scrolling through my contacts.

"This is Doyle Wallace," the other end answered.

"You and I need to have a word, Doyle Wallace of Skate Weekly Magazine."

"Violet!" Doyle chimed, "Hi! I haven't heard from you since Rome. How are you?"

"Again," I reiterated, "You and I need to have a word, Doyle Wallace."

"And why's that?" he wondered.

"I just picked up a copy of Skate Weekly Magazine," I told him, "And I'm curious as to what the rise and fall and rise of Violet Plisetsky is all about."

"Have you read it yet?" Doyle asked, his voice full of excitement.

"I just finished," I smiled, "It's nice to be painted in a positive light for a change."

"You did that, Violet," he pointed out, "I had nothing to do with it. But you also got me promoted! And you got me a raise!"

"You're welcome."

"Thank you," I swear Doyle Wallace was going to come out of his skin, "Thank you very much."

"You do know," I assured, "When Victor and I get married again, you're invited to the wedding."

"Awesome!" Doyle squeaked, "You're not inviting any other press, are you?"

"You're the only one I know, Doyle," I settled him, "Of course not. But you're not there as press. You're there as no more than a friend."

"It's nice that you think of us as friends," he awed, "I remember the days when you wanted to kick my ass in a back alley."

"People change."

"You're living proof of that." Oh, Doyle Wallace. Someone better snap you up before I do, "So, when's the wedding?"

"You'll know when you get your invitation," I promised, "Victor's here, too, by the way."

"Hi, Doyle!" Victor smiled, waving toward the phone.

"Hi, Victor!"

"Doyle says hi," I told him.

"I have to go, Violet," Doyle chimed, "I got a meeting with the editor in a few minutes."

"Alright," I let him go, "You do you. Good luck and Godspeed."

"Thanks, Vi."

"Bye," I ran my finger across my phone screen, hanging up the call.

"So?" Victor asked, pulling me into his arms, "What do you think? Should we go get the boys?"

"Probably," I laid my head in his shoulder, not really wanting to move. But I didn't want to leave Yuri and Yurio with Gene for much longer. It'd be nice to have the family back together. Even though Chris is still in Switzerland. As far as I knew anyway. But then, I heard some creaking above us. Maybe we got a new neighbor. Fun, "Why? Why do we have to have a floor above us?"

"I'm sorry, dorogoy," he kissed my forehead, "You could go upstairs and complain."

"I could," I sighed. Then, I caught a second wind, "You know what? I'm going up there. I'm going to go up there and bitch about it."

"You do that," Victor let me go, "I'll be waiting down here."

"Ok," I got up from the couch and headed upstairs to my old condo. Someone was about to be on the receiving end of me mildly irritated. I knocked on the door, not thinking things through. I didn't care. I could take care of things if I had to.

"The door's open, Violet!" a familiar Swiss accent chirped on the other side. Wait a second…Cautiously, I opened the door, "Sorry about the noise. I thought I'd move a little furniture around."

"CHRISTOPHE!" I jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist.

"Hi there, sweetheart," Chris hugged me tight, "This is unexpected."

"What are you doing in my old condo?" I wondered, "I thought you moved back to Switzerland."

"I was just finalizing some things," he shrugged, putting me back on the floor, "Besides, you are going to need someone to keep an eye on Nadya since Victor can't be around her, aren't you?"

"And to think I was going to come up here and bitch," I beamed, "Are you sure this is ok?"

"Violet," Chris put his finger in my face, "Don't do that. You know this is how it's supposed to be. Victor and I have our open relationship. You two are getting remarried. It's the way it's always supposed to be."

"Thank you," I kissed his cheek, "I really do appreciate that, Chris."

"You two are better together than you are apart," he pointed out, "I read that in a magazine somewhere recently."

"Skate Weekly, perhaps?"

"That one!"

"Well," I rocked back on my heels, "Victor and I were going to go get Yuri and Yurio from Gene. Care to join us?"

"I'd love to," Chris nodded, "But I have plans for tonight. I apologize in advance."

"Thank you," I can't believe he stuck around, but damn, I'm glad he is, "I'll see you later."

"You will," Chris sent me off and Victor and I ran to get the boys. I'm not surprised where we found them. Even if I didn't get a text from Gene telling us, there was no way they could stay away for long. Like I said, workaholics like their parents before them.

"Hey, Vi," Gene threw his arms around me, "How've you been, hon?"

"Can't complain," I looked over the ice, noticing his daughter holding my oldest son's hands to stable herself, "How are they?"

"Yurio's kicking ass and taking names," he reported, "Yuri has just been helping Sophie out. It's been so sweet to see them like this."

"If I didn't know any better," I raised my voice a bit, "I'd think my boys didn't know how to take a day off!"

"Mama!" Both their heads snapped toward me.

"Come on, guys," I called it, "You guys need to know when to take a break."

"I can't!" Yurio shot me down, "I have to keep my kill streak up!"

That's the one I worry about. That's the one I pray for. Yuri skated over with Sophie holding his hand. She has been getting better. Her footing is a lot better than I last saw, "Mama, will you and Daddy skate for us?"

I looked over at Victor, hoping he could get us out of this, "I don't know, Yuri. That means us getting rental skates."

"And?"

"Well?" Victor asked for my permission, "Violet, may I have this dance?"

How can I say no to that face? How could I have ever said no to that face? To make matters even worse, I had two other faces that I couldn't say no ganging up on me. I love my boys. But who was I to say no to them ever again?

 **A/N: Well, friends. That's it. That's the end. Violet and Victor are getting remarried. Chris is living above them and things are cool on that front. Everything is looking up for the Nikiforov-Plisetsky family. Even Doyle Wallace of Skate Weekly Magazine is down to one name and doesn't have a target on his back! And we got some unscheduled skating by Victor and Violet and Yurio. Yuri opted out of it. He's the only one that didn't take gold home this year. And he's ok with that.**

 **Now, is there going to be another? I don't know. I mean, if you want me to do another one of these, I'll consider it. But things are pretty buttoned up. It's been nice hanging out with you guys, though. It's going to be a while before I post another YOI story, but everyone deserves a break. Even me. So, it's been nice knowing you. And I'll see you later. xx**


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